Lord of the Rings: Through a Princess's Eyes Part 1
by GirlInTheMask
Summary: Aminta, Princess of Lore, yearns for adventure. When her aging father receives an invitation to join the Council of Elrond, Aminta disguises herself as a peasant boy and goes in his place. Along the way, she'll face many dangers, make new friends, and perhaps even find love, all on her quest to help her fading kingdom, and, eventually, Middle-Earth.
1. Of Stories Old and New

Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings. The rights belong to whoever inherited them after Tolkien's death.

A/N: I'm not trying to rewrite the story. I'm just inserting an OC. Hope you enjoy!

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**Lord of the Rings: Through a Princess's Eyes (Part 1)**

Chapter 1 – Of Stories Old and New

Everyone has a story to be told. Whether or not an audience will take the time to listen, that is their decision. What is also debatable is when someone's story begins. Does it begin at the start of one's life, when a great, inevitable event befalls the person, or simply when one says so? I suppose the problem could be solved by the storyteller, whether it be someone who did not know the person at all, or the person themselves. But should the decision fall to the former, it can be rather dangerous for the story itself. However, it is also undeniable that what happens in one's life can be greater than anything a mere storyteller could conjure up in his or her imaginative mind.

Such is true of my own story. And I shall give my audience the great honor of telling it myself. Before I begin, however, I now make an oath stating that everything that I am about to relate is fact. Who am I to make such oaths? I shall tell you. I am Aminta, princess of Lore, the youngest daughter of its King Kyros and Queen Ione. Why have I never heard of Lore, you ask? Well, we are a small, isolated kingdom located in the northwest of Middle-Earth. I don't find it surprising that our existence should not be recorded outside our own chronicles.

So, to be fair, I shall begin not where I make my first appearance, but when my people do. We are of the race of Men. Throughout the Second Age, we lived as a tribe descended from the Edain, Men of the First Age who were known for their alliances with Elves. However, we lived near the Haradrim, stubborn Men of the South who desire power above all else. So after having too many "disagreements" with our neighbors, and discovering that the Second Age was drawing to a close, my people decided to migrate to the North, led by our noble chieftain. It would prove to be a long and difficult trek, one that would test my people to physical and emotional extremes.

Not only did we have to pass through Gondor to escape the great war occurring in Mordor, our chieftain came across a group of four siblings: three sisters and one brother. It was soon discovered that they were the children of none other than Anárion of the House of Elendil. They were being kept in what would become the city of Edoras for their safety, but they had long since run out of adequate resources. Our chieftain resolved this by offering to take them to Lothlórien, where we had planned on going to rehabilitate.

After many negotiations, our chieftain escorted the four siblings with us to Lothlórien, where we stayed for about a year. It was not long before we decided to leave that the death of Anárion had been announced to his children. While his two younger daughters chose to return to the south with their brother Meneldil, the oldest stayed with us, for she was now in love with our chieftain. However, it wasn't until we reached our current location – which is east of the Blue Mountains and west of the River Lune – that they married, thus forever linking the royal bloodline of Lore to that of the Dúnedain. That, in short, is how my royal blood came to be.

Time does not permit me to tell of the next three thousand years of my people, but I will say that we've had our fair share of unfit rulers and wars, both civil and with neighbors. For now, I will begin with my father and mother.

My father is the noble King Kyros, who came to the throne in the year 2968 of the Third Age. He is the most accomplished swordsman in Lore (and our kingdom has produced many fine swordsmen). I suppose it would be fair to say that I have inherited most of my traits from him. My childhood was filled with stories of old that he would tell me and my siblings, ones that he himself learned as a student of the great wizard, Gandalf the Grey. It was those tales that fuelled the fire of my adventurous spirit. I longed to see what was beyond the mountains or the river, and I was determined that I would live new tales that I would one day tell. But I never forgot that home was the one place I would always return to.

My mother is Queen Ione. She and my father married shortly after he became king. Their families favored the match, but Mother insisted that she would only marry Father if she loved him, and he her; thus much of what I learned about love, I've learned from her. She's also the primary reason that my family is so large, since it was she who wanted to bring all nine of us into the world. But while she may appear to be sweet, which she most certainly is, she is perhaps the best archer in the kingdom, sometimes even going out to catch game with our huntsmen. And whenever she shot down a fine meal for us to eat at supper, Father would always give a toast in her honor.

And then of course, there are my siblings. I have four brothers and four sisters, all of them lovely and talented in their own way. My eldest sibling is my sister Junia. Always so calm and practical, and very good with a harp. She has always been somewhat mature for her age, so much so that we rarely catch her off guard whenever we try to pull the occasional (good-natured) trick on her.

The second is my brother Festus. As the oldest son, he is first in line for the throne after Father, and he is perhaps my favorite brother. It was he who showed me how to use a sword those first few times, and I admit I sometimes forget to thank him for it, especially now. He doesn't seem to notice though, but he could in fact be waiting for the "perfect" time to remind me.

The third is my sister Nephele. Though I hate to admit it, she's a better swordswoman than I. When I first picked up a sword in my pre-adolescent years and expressed a desire to learn how to use it, while Festus took me seriously, Nephele teased me. She is far from being a bully though. In fact, she would probably be the first one to help me if I was in any danger.

The fourth is my brother Chariton. Why he has expressed an interest in bugs all his life, I do not know. What I do know is that he's never been an indoors person. He's very kind too. Once, when I was ill, he came into my bedchamber and showed me a lovely butterfly that he had found in hopes that it would lift my spirits. And it did.

The fifth is my brother Marcius. He is somewhat similar to Chariton in that he often spends his time outdoors. However, he is more interested in larger animals than bugs, dogs in particular. I remember once when we were younger how he brought in a stray puppy and begged Father and Mother to let him keep it. They (reluctantly) did, and the dog, Beuno, has been his favorite ever since.

The sixth is the youngest of my family's sons, Bryn. While my other brothers enjoy being outside, Bryn is almost always in the library. I don't think I can recall a day seeing him without his face in a book. I suppose it's his way of seeing the world since he's not particularly adventurous. Sometimes he even has to be persuaded by Father and Mother to put his books down and go outside.

The seventh is my sister Georgia. She is perhaps the most wonderful dancer in our family, if not the kingdom. Usually when we throw a ball she's often the one who stays on the dance floor the longest, the entire evening most of the time. But while she does love festivities and merrymaking, she does know when it's time to be serious.

My last sibling is my sister Letitia. She is not only a talented archer like our mother, but she's also an excellent painter. She often paints landscapes and animals. If you ever looked at one of her paintings, you would think you were looking at the real thing itself. And, needless to say, since we are very close in age and have much in common, she is my favorite sister.

And so, after the previous eight arrived, late one September evening, out came another little girl, me! Now, I never really considered myself as interesting as my siblings, perhaps because I'm the youngest. But Mother did tell me that when I was born, the midwife claimed that she had never heard an infant scream as loudly as I did. It was as if, she said, that I was making the statement from the very start that I was going to be different.

And, in a way, I was. My earliest memories are perhaps my favorite ones. When I could barely walk, Mother decided to introduce me to her love of horses, as she did with all of my siblings at that age. She put me on the saddle in front of her, and we took a short ride through the forest near the castle. It was like magic. And since that day I had a passionate love for being outside and riding horses, since it was probably the closest I would get to having my own adventures.

Growing up, I was a somewhat stubborn and willful child, but I could be demure and sweet when I wanted to, especially if either of my parents got involved. All I wanted to do was spend my days outdoors, and I was often dragged back inside to join my siblings – those close in age to me anyway – in furthering my education, consisting of languages (I am fluent in three: the common tongue, the language of my people, and even Elvish), mathematics (which I loathe!), the physical and biological sciences, history (which I came to love most), and geography.

Though I did somewhat like my studies, and absolutely love the days I spent outdoors, both were nothing compared to what I really wanted. I longed to do something significant in my life. But through all of those years of wishing and yearning, I could never have imagined what the future held in store for me. This is where my story begins.

The year was 3018 of the Third Age. It was September the Fifteenth, and we had just moved to our winter castle. The morning was late, the sun high in the sky, and I was doing what I loved best: riding through the open fields near the castle on my favorite horse, Starfleet. There is nothing in the world like riding a horse at a full gallop, with no saddle but only reins, and it's only you and your horse. I am always thrilled when I feel her black mane whip against my face. It is probably the closest one can ever come to flying. And since it was my birthday that day, it was my own private way of celebrating. I had already been riding for hours, having gone out in the early dawn as I am accustomed to do whenever I go riding alone.

But now that the hour was close to noon, I decided to turn Starfleet home. We cantered down the pathway to the courtyard at the back of the castle. I then dismounted, took Starfleet by the reins, observed that her white coat and black stockings could use some cleaning, and we proceeded through one of the entryways: a hedge in the shape of an arch.

I saw five of my siblings in the courtyard, all occupied with their own things. Junia was reading a book, Chariton was observing a pair of blue-winged beetles he had found the day before, and Marcius and Beuno were watching Festus and Nephele as they practiced with their swords in a mock duel.

I too watched for the next few minutes, envying their great martial skill, until Festus knocked Nephele's sword out of her own hand and pointed his at her.

"I suppose I win again!" he declared.

Nephele looked at the tip of his sword, then at him, and chuckled, which brought on the laughter of Festus, Marcius, and me. My laughter of course brought the attention of my siblings. Festus smiled as he sheathed his sword.

"Good morning little sister," he said.

"And to you brother," I nodded, returning the smile.

"Have you come to test your martial abilities against us?" Nephele asked, the usual teasing tone in her voice.

"Not exactly," I replied, emphasizing my somewhat dirty appearance.

"Oh come now, I'm sure you can hold your own against us at least," Nephele said, though I couldn't tell whether or not she was joking. Did she honestly think that? I did not know. But whatever she thought, I was certain I couldn't.

"Not today Nephele," I declined respectfully.

"Well, either way, Happy Birthday," she smiled.

"Thank you," I nodded, the smile on my face slightly bigger.

But just then, I heard footsteps on the stairs which led into the castle. I turned and saw Georgia hastily coming down the steps so fast that I feared she would trip; though, with her, that seemed impossible.

"There you are Aminta," she said as she left the last step, "I don't know if this will please you but, Mother wants to see you for one more fitting."

I let out a drawn-out sigh. "Now?" I asked.

"Now," Georgia replied, a look of pity on her face, for she knew as well as I what awaited me concerning this.

I let out another, shorter, sigh. Though, while I disagreed with my mother when it came to fittings, she was also my queen. I had to obey her.

"Very well," I said, "Marcius, would you mind putting Starfleet in the stables for me?"

"Of course," he said as he stood up from the stone bench and took the reins from me. I then walked up the steps with Georgia and into the castle.

Soon, I found myself in the bedchamber my mother and father shared getting fitted for the I've-long-since-lost-count time. While I do like clothes, I don't particularly enjoy getting fitted for them, because they take as long or as short as my mother wishes. Besides, the dresses I usually wear are simple ones with shortened skirts. Hopefully, however, this would be the very last fitting before the ball that was being held in my honor the following evening.

But before I could fantasize about it and dwell on how wonderful it would be, the seamstress pulled back the strings of my corset too tightly. I swiftly breathed in a large amount to catch her attention.

"Oh, pardon me Highness," she apologized before loosening the strings. I slowly breathed out in relief, and turned my head around as far as it could go to address my mother with the most pitiful face I could make.

"Mother, is this going to take long?" I asked.

"Patience is a trait of a suitable heir Aminta," Mother replied, not a hint of pity in her voice.

I became confused. "But I'm not going to rule Lore, Festus is," I said.

"True," Mother said, "however, your father and I demand behavior fitting an heir from all of our children."

"Of course Mother," I nodded before I turned back around. Though I sometimes do not understand her logic, I hope that one day I can attain the wisdom she has.

I then slipped into the dress and finally got a view of the nearly finished version in the mirror. It was my favorite color, a pale rose pink, with a long skirt, long sleeves made of see-through fabric, and a shawl made of fur bordering the neckline, with a small bow in the center. It was definitely lovely, but I wondered if it was only the dress that would make _me_ lovely. Of all of my father's daughters, I favor him the most. I am somewhat tan due to my many days outdoors, my cheeks are rosy, and my long brown hair is straight – but usually unkempt due to riding horses often. My eyes are hazel and, unfortunately, a bit too big and childlike, especially considering that this birthday was my thirty-second (making me about sixteen if you're using the aging calculations for normal men).

I then turned after I heard footsteps in front of the nearby open doorway and saw Bryn, reading a book as usual. But when he stopped in front of me, I got an idea.

"Bryn?" I asked, "What do you think of this dress?"

"It looks fine Aminta," he replied, slightly mumbling, his face still in the book.

"You're not even looking!" I said, annoyed at how concentrated he was.

Bryn then lifted his face from the book (finally) and said as calmly as he could, "It looks beautiful sister."

"That was all I needed to hear," I said, the annoyance still in my voice.

Bryn rolled his eyes and returned to his book. I then silently hoped in my mind that he would run into a column while he was walking. I did learn an important lesson that day, though: _Never_ ask a boy about feminine matters.

Fortunately, my fitting ended shortly thereafter, and I was soon back in my plain dress again. Then, through one of the windows that gave a view of another courtyard, I saw my sister Letitia painting, and decided to go down and visit her. I hurried through the halls, at one point narrowly missing a couple of the servants, and soon found myself in the courtyard. Though, when I saw Letitia, so concentrated on her painting, I decided not to say "hello" in the most traditional fashion.

Instead, I snuck up as quietly and as stealthily as I could until I was right behind my sister, made sure she was not using her brush, and then threw my arms around her.

"Good day Letitia!" I shouted.

Letitia screamed, then laughed, in delight. "Don't scare me Aminta!"

"I'm your little sister," I said as I let go of her, "It's my purpose."

Letitia rolled her eyes and turned back to her painting. I looked at it and saw that she had painted what appeared to be me in royal dress mounted on Starfleet, who was in royal tack. The trees behind us and ground beneath us contained details as minute as the cracks on the trunks and individual blades of grass. I was amazed, and then I asked the inevitable question.

"Is this for me?"

"Oh, yes," Letitia replied, "Happy Birthday."

"Thank you," I said as I hugged Letitia, more gently this time, "It's beautiful."

"I'm glad you like it," she smiled. But suddenly, her smile left and she looked rather glum as she took up her brush and prepared to paint another stroke. I became alarmed.

"Is something wrong Letitia?" I asked.

"Well…" she strayed off before finally asking, "Have you seen Father today?"

"No, why?"

"Well, have you not noticed anything peculiar about him lately?" she asked.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, becoming concerned.

"I've been noticing that he's been going to more private meetings than usual, and some mornings he even has dark circles under his eyes," Letitia explained.

"Are you sure?" I asked, "Do you think he's ill?"

"If he was he would take to his bed." My sister stared down at the brush in her hands, deep in thought. Soon though, she looked up at me and said, "I think we should find out what's ailing him."

I raised my eyebrows. "Do you think so?" I asked, "If he's been going to secret meetings I doubt he will reveal what he discusses with his advisors."

"How can he not? We are his own children."

"Well," I started, "I suppose I could ask him tonight at the ball. He couldn't possibly refuse a request from me, since it is my birthday."

"We can only hope," Letitia then said, "But promise me this: If either of us discover any information, we will report it to each other. Agreed?"

I thought about it for a moment, wondering at the very idea that my own father could be keeping secrets from us, from me, and I nodded. "Agreed."

The day passed quickly. Before I knew it, the sun was setting, and it was time for me to prepare for the ball. I went into the bathing area beside my bedchamber and my two maids offered to wash my hair and apply the soap on for me. I insisted I could do it myself as usual, but they just as strongly insisted that it was my birthday and this was their present to me. They poured a fragrant, rose-smelling oil into my hair and rubbed a soap that smelled of honey on my shoulders. All the while I sat in the hot water, dreaming of tonight and what surprises it might bring.

When my bath was over, my maids dried and curled my hair before helping me into my dress. They then painted my face with blush, eyeshadow the same color as my dress, and gloss for my lips. After my face was done, they put a rhinestone necklace around my neck and a jeweled headdress on the top of my hair, made final adjustments to it, and, finally, I stepped into my slippers made of satin.

When I looked at myself in the mirror one last time, I was surprised at how lovely I was. I was truly a princess of Men, a vision in pink. I wondered what my family and the people at the ball (especially the men) would think. My maids then followed me out into the stone hallway. I could see through one of the windows that the sun had set completely past the horizon, but the candles that lit the halls gave a soft glow, banishing the darkness. I smiled in comfort.

Soon, we came to my father's throne room, which is where we held most of our balls. The guests and my family were dressed in beautiful clothes of all colors, and candles brightly lit the hall. The walls were adorned with banners portraying our family symbol: a decorated sword, and tapestries portraying horses, huntsmen, deer, and members of the royal family. There was a small group of musicians playing soft music, and on either side of the room were long tables holding all sorts of delicious foods and drinks. So far, I was pleased with how my birthday party was going. But suddenly, the two men at the bottom of the staircase below took up the horns they were holding, and blew them loudly to signal my arrival. My maids backed away, the music stopped, and everyone turned and looked at me. I felt myself blush. I'm not particularly used to an entire crowd looking at me.

It was then that I heard my father speak in his signature booming voice, "Ladies and gentleman of Lore, my youngest daughter whose birthday we are celebrating, Princess Aminta! Let us eat, drink, and make merry!"

The crowd cheered and I smiled. Father always knew what to do to lighten a situation. I then walked down the stairs, the sound of my slippers touching the stone echoing throughout the hall, and made my way to my father, who looked as proud and full of standing as ever. He bowed and I curtsied, the music began, and soon Father and I were leading the first dance of the evening.

It became a joyous celebration. Junia played a beautiful song she composed herself on her harp, and Georgia and I delighted in showing off our slippers whenever we kicked out our feet when dancing. Nephele and I even convinced Bryn, who usually sits through most balls, to join in the fun. But it wasn't until I finished dancing a jig with my other brothers that Letitia caught my attention. She stood by one of the tables and looked slightly nervous as she waved her hand in a silent gesture, urging me to come over. I excused myself from the other guests and made my way to be by my sister.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Father is alone over there," Letitia said as she pointed to him across the hall. He was standing beside his throne, smiling as he was overseeing the success of the ball. "Now is your chance to speak to him!"

I frowned at remembering my talk with Letitia, and could feel the frustration that came with it. "Sister, it's my birthday," I said, "Must we concern ourselves with what could be little more than petty political talk?"

"Yes," Letitia replied, a slight hint of sarcasm in her voice, "Now go, you promised me."

Fearing she would resort to pushing me, I (reluctantly) submitted to her will. "Very well, but you're coming with me," I said, deciding that she should have a taste of my frustration. But she gladly went with me as we waded through the sea of guests before we found ourselves standing alone before our father.

I smiled. When I saw out of the corner of my eyes that my sister wasn't doing the same, I nudged her slightly with my elbow, and immediately she did the same. We then curtsied.

"Father," I said, "if it is not an issue, could we please speak to you alone for a moment?"

Father raised his eyebrows, but he didn't look displeased. "Of course my daughters; come, tell me what ails you." He then got down from the steps leading to his throne and invited us to one of the corridors.

"Well Father, we…" Letitia began, but she was interrupted when two men I recognized as two of Father's advisors hastily came over and addressed him, acting almost as though we were invisible.

"Forgive us Majesty," one of them said, "it is urgent that we speak to you now. We have just discovered new information about…"

"Enough of this!" Father suddenly shouted. Letitia and I became genuinely alarmed. Father almost never raised his voice in front of me or my siblings, so this meant that he wasn't merely upset.

"I have come here to enjoy an evening of celebration," he continued, "And you rudely interrupted my daughters. If I must meet with you tomorrow, I will. But for now I intend to enjoy myself, am I clear?"

The men slowly took in Father's slight outburst, but then they nodded and bowed. "Of course your Majesty," one said, "Please excuse us, Sire." They then left, slower than they had come, and Father turned back toward us, the smile now back on his face.

"Now then," he said, "what were you two saying?"

Letitia and I looked at each other, frowning. Our eyes silently communicated with each other, neither of us knowing what to do. What sort of information was so important that Father's advisors had to interrupt us? And if Father got angry with them, what would he do if he discovered our suspicions? It wasn't worth it. I shook my head slightly at my sister, and she nodded. We turned back toward Father, and curtsied once more.

"Please forgive us Father, let us get back to the ball," I said.

I then turned around and went back to where we were before, my sister following, and Father didn't stop us as I feared.

I immediately put my hand to my forehead in weariness once we were back at the table. "I'm sorry Letitia," I said, "I didn't know what else to do."

"Think nothing of it Aminta," she said, "I would have done the same thing." She then put her hand on my shoulder and smiled at me in assurance. "Don't worry about it; we can get back to this tomorrow."

I couldn't help but smile in return. "Thank you Letitia."

Soon, we were invited to join another dance. And while I did enjoy the rest of the evening, the shadow of concern held its grip, refusing to let go. Before the hour grew too late, the guests began to leave after expressing final wishes of joy and good fortune. And after the last guests left, we were all persuaded by Mother to take to our beds. I changed into my nightgown, rinsed the paint of my face – without the help of my maids – and slipped into my warm, comfortable, familiar bed. But it wasn't until long after midnight that I finally fell into an uneasy slumber, after forcing myself to blow out the candle sitting on my bedside and let go of my unsettling thoughts.

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Reviews would be appreciated.


	2. Departing Into the Unknown

Here's Chapter 2! Thanks for reading and reviewing.

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**Lord of the Rings: Through a Princess's Eyes (Part 1)**

Chapter 2 – Departing Into the Unknown

The following morning, after a dreamless sleep, I discovered that I had awoken earlier than usual. I knew I wasn't likely going back to sleep though, for when I am awoken it's hard for me to go back to sleep. I sat up in my bed, yawned, and stretched. Through the windows beside me, I could see that it was early dawn. The sky was colored a pale, slowly lightening blue, there were light grey clouds with shades of purple and pink, and I could see that the sun, which was shining from the opposite direction, had cast long shadows of the castle onto the landscape outside; an ominous reminder of what I had come across last night. I stared at the scene outside for a long time, realizing that I was again filled with nervousness and anxiety, which were only heightened when I heard footsteps outside my door.

Curiosity got the best of me. I walked cautiously over to the door and quietly opened it just enough so that I wouldn't draw attention to myself. I raised my eyebrows at what I saw. Two of Father's advisors, the ones from last night, were walking down the hall. I remembered what Letitia had said about Father attending secret meetings. Could they be going to another one? It was inevitable. I had to know.

Once they had gone around the corner, I snuck out of my bedchamber and began following them down the hall as silently as I could. Though I myself knew where the council room was, this was the route that was more fun. When I was younger, sneaking was somewhat of a hobby of mine. I loved, and still love, the thrill of someone not knowing you're there, trying to get through without being seen. I couldn't help but smile as I took small steps through the castle, sometimes hiding behind corridors, and making sure I didn't get to close, lest they know I was following them. But this time, I was not sneaking around for only my enjoyment. I had to figure out what Father was hiding, even if I did end up with a punishment in the end.

I stood behind a corridor, and waited until the doors to the council room were closed, before sneaking as quietly as before over to the doors. I heard unclear, muffled voices before they were all silenced and a lone voice spoke up.

"Before we begin, I wish to stress that this will be the last secret meeting I will attend." It was my father. "But for now, two of my advisors came to me last night bringing news they insisted to be important." "I now allow them to come forth and share what they have discovered."

A different voice then spoke. "It is true, our news is important, but not the kind to be taken lightly. It regards the Black Riders the Royal Guard has seen twice on the borders of the kingdom near the River Lune."

_Black Riders? _I asked silently. I leaned further toward the door to hear better.

"Though it has been nearly a month since then, we now believe these riders to not be mere men," the man said, "but as agents of darkness. Indeed, they might even be servants of the Dark Lord himself."

I once more heard murmured voices, more alarmed this time. I too felt it, my heart stopping as I heard the words "Dark Lord". Only one being I knew of bore that title, but his real name we were not to bring up too much. It was the story I heard the least growing up; but ironically it was the one that fascinated me the most. Though three Elves, seven Dwarves, and nine Men were each given rings of power to govern their races, the Dark Lord forged a secret Ring for himself. War waged in Mordor, the one my people managed to escape. The Dark Lord was slain, but the battle was ultimately lost when Isildur, the elder brother of my ancestor Anárion, refused to destroy the One Ring. And despite using it to make himself invisible from his enemies, he was still killed by their arrows. Since then, the Ring was lost, never seen again. But what did all of this news mean now? Was the Dark Lord becoming active again? If so, how long had they known of this? What could this mean for my family, or even our kingdom? These and many more questions began to buzz like wild bees in my head, until another, different voice spoke.

"Gentleman," he said, "we cannot afford to be unnerved by this possibility. Whatever threat to the safety of our king faces us we must face with courage and dignity."

"And what of my family?" Father then asked.

"Your Majesty?"

"I refuse to be protected unless my family is given equal amounts of protection," he said. And before anyone could say anything else, he continued, "And I cannot tell you how tormented I have been keeping these meetings secret from them. As I have said before, this will be the last one I will attend."

Silence. Had they all been intimidated by my father's words? I had been, but I also admired the man and father I still knew: one who would give up himself before anyone else. I couldn't at that moment have been prouder to have him for a father.

"We understand your concerns Majesty," one man finally spoke up, "But the secrecy of these meetings is for the safety of the royal family as well. And you still haven't told us of your decision regarding your invitation to the council being held by Elrond Half-Elven the following month."

My eyes widened instantly at those last words. Elrond Half-Elven? The Lord of Rivendell? Why would he want to invite Father to a council he was holding? We had little to no contact with anyone other than our own people for the last three millennia. Why would someone as important as an Elven lord favor contact with our king now? I continued to listen.

"If the weapon of the Dark Lord has indeed been found, and Elrond Half-Elven desires those of the three races in power to attend, it would be wise to accept, considering that our kingdom, though strong, is rather isolated," one man said.

More silence. Though they were behind closed doors, I knew that all of my father's advisors, as well as I, awaited his decision anxiously.

"I have prolonged my response to this invitation," he soon said, "And it seems I can do so no longer. Very well, I will begin my journey to Rivendell within the following week. But first, I must find a way to reveal the news to my wife and children. They will not take it lightly."

The men began murmuring again, and I could tell that they agreed with Father's decision. But while I wanted very much to agree too, I found myself unable to. I decided that I had heard enough. Some, but not all, of my questions had been answered – to my dismay at the very least. Feeling I could go nowhere else, and without returning to my chamber to change clothes, I at once went to the first place I often went to in upsetting times: the stables.

Once I arrived, I was immediately comforted by the instant smells of hay and leather. Some of the horses neighed happily when they saw me, but I ignored them and went to the horse of my heart: Starfleet. I opened the door to her stall, went inside, and was immediately greeted by Starfleet putting her muzzle underneath my hand, indicating that she wanted to be pet. I did. I scratched her muzzle, kissed it, and stroke her neck before resting my head against it.

I was feeling a whole range of emotions: anger, sadness, and even confusion. I was angry at Father. How could he keep such important news secret from us – news that could threaten not only his safety, but that of his family and kingdom? It didn't matter whether or not we would take it lightly. We would at least know the truth and concerns. And what about Mother? Did she know of any of this? In any event, whether or not Father was reluctant about keeping secrets from his own family, it would almost have been the same had he lied to us.

I was sad at Father's decision. Did he really think it wise to leave his kingdom alone, with only a few of his guard to accompany him? Not only was he becoming advanced in years, if the Black Riders really were servants of the Dark Lord, it would be unlikely at the very least for him to able to aptly defend himself. I simply couldn't bear the thought of losing him before his time, especially at the hands of the most evil of minions.

And I was also confused over what had just occurred. I had just eavesdropped on a secret meeting, which, in some cases, can be viewed as an act of treason. Was I right in wanting to know what Father was hiding? Was I even justified in feeling angry at him for hiding this information? He was a king after all; and if it didn't mean immediate danger he could have kept these meetings secret if he wished.

These and countless other questions filled my mind, ones that I couldn't answer all at once. But I did know one thing for sure: I had to do something. But what? I thought over my options, and soon came to the bitter conclusion that as a princess last in line for the throne, and the youngest of nine children, there wasn't much I could do. Had I been a son, I could have easily approached Father and persuaded him not to go, and maybe even go in his place. Not that being a girl hindered me in terms of favor, but I would be safer against known and unknown dangers as a boy.

That was when a momentous idea came to me, one that I at first feared would be too filled with risks. But as I thought it over, I realized that it was the only thing I could do that would satisfy a person in such a state like me; something that, even though it would mean facing danger, would mean that I could keep those I loved – not just my kingdom but my family too – safe.

Suddenly my deep thoughts were broken once I heard a stack of hay hit the floor, causing me to jump in surprise. I looked out from the stall and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it was only one of the stable-hands. He raised his eyebrows once he saw me.

"Oh, pardon me Highness. I didn't know you were here."

I smiled softly. "It's all right. I was just leaving."

But as I stepped out of the stall, I thought of another idea. If Father could hold a secret meeting, then I would hold one of my own.

I turned to the stable-hand and asked, "Would you please do me a favor?"

"Of course Highness."

I rolled my eyes slightly; I tired sometimes of being called "Highness" all the time, but I continued, "Please inform all of my siblings that I wish to meet them in the tower after lunch, in secret."

The stable-hand smiled and bowed. "Consider it done Highness," he said. He then left. And soon, after kissing Starfleet's muzzle one more time, I followed suit, hoping I wasn't being missed.

The day that went by was perhaps the slowest of my life. During lunch I found it more difficult than usual to stay in my seat. At one point, Letitia, who sat next to me, gently nudged me; and when I looked up at her, she motioned with her head twice over at Father, who sat at the far end of the table. I nodded and, to avoid further silent conversation, went back to eating my food – though, of course, by then I had already lost most of my appetite.

I was more than relieved when lunch was finally over. I immediately headed for the tower, which is located at the far end of the castle and used for keeping watch for enemies in times of war. But now I had it to myself. I hoped that the stable-hand had sent word to my brothers and sisters, and even more so that this meeting was to remain secret, my nerves akin to that of a filly ready to race.

But soon, my siblings began to arrive one by one, until finally all nine of us sat in the tower – undoubtedly somewhat crowded due to the small space of the room. Even so, I was happy that my request had been fulfilled.

"You wanted to see us sister?" Festus asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"And why do you wish to keep this meeting secret?" Chariton asked.

"Let me explain," I replied as I stood up from my seat.

I took a deep breath and continued. "It may not have come to your attention, but Letitia informed me yesterday that Father has been holding secret meetings with his advisors." Everyone looked at Letitia, who nodded and then lifted her hand toward me so I could go on. "I didn't believe it at first, but this morning I heard two of Father's advisors walking down the hall. I followed them and, I regret to say, I listened in on the conversation in the meeting room."

My siblings leaned in slightly, indicating that they were interested. I went on. "Black Riders have recently been seen on the borders, and, Father's advisors believe them to be servants of…the Dark Lord."

As I expected, their eyes widened and half of them gasped. "You don't mean…'him'?" Marcius asked.

I pressed my lips together and sighed, but I continued. "There's more. Father has also been invited to join a council being held by Elrond Half-Elven of Rivendell."

"An Elven Lord?" Georgia asked.

I nodded. "Lord Elrond believes that the One Ring has been found, and people from the three races are being invited to join this council."

"Are you sure?" Bryn asked.

"What is Father planning to do?" Junia asked.

I nodded at Bryn and replied to Junia, along with the rest of my brothers and sisters. "Father has decided to accept this invitation. But, considering that Father is getting older, and that there might be servants of the Dark Lord at large, I have made my own decision."

I then looked out from the window at the landscape of my kingdom, thinking of the weight of what I was about to say, along with the possible consequences of such a decision, and revealed it to them. "I will go in his place."

"What?" Letitia suddenly said. I turned around and then everyone began talking at once, all of them I knew to be protesting against what I had just said. Fortunately though, it only took the raising of my hand to quiet them all down. But suddenly, Nephele stood up.

"Aminta, do you honestly think it wise to simply leave the kingdom by yourself to join a council being held by one of the great Elven lords? If Father's advisors are right, some of the most experienced and wisest of Elves, Dwarves, and Men will be attending. Forgive me if I sound rude but, you're so young, and a princess of a small kingdom."

"And consider the possible dangers," Festus then added, "You're not exactly the best swordswoman. And if you are correct in that there are servants of the Dark Lord roaming the roads, who knows what they would do if they got their hands on you? Let me come with you at the very least. I would be ready to defend you at a moment's notice."

I sighed a deep sigh at the words of both my brother and sister. I didn't want to admit it, but there were hints of truth in what they had just said. But I was determined to convince them, and myself, that I was set on doing what I intended. "Thank you Festus," I said, "But I am aware of the dangers. Considering the possibility that there are servants of the Dark Lord at large, if more than one of us goes that would only put both of us in peril. And, to be completely honest, I don't intend to go as myself."

"What are you talking about?" Letitia asked.

"I can't afford to draw unwanted attention to myself," I explained, "So to prevent that from happening, I will be dressing…as a peasant boy."

"What?" Bryn asked, "Aminta, why would you want to do that?"

"I will not only be safer against attack if I am in disguise," I replied, "Considering that most of the council members will most likely be men makes it all the more reason to do so if I am to be taken seriously."

I finished with one more saying. "I understand if none of you wish to help me, or if you even express a desire to tell Father. But I care not, I'm going to do something to protect our family and our kingdom."

Silence then filled the room. I wondered what my brothers and sisters were thinking, and what any of them would say next. But before long, Georgia spoke up. "I will help you Aminta."

Chariton nodded. "If it means keeping Father safe, I'll help you too."

Slowly, one after one, each of my siblings gave their (reluctant) consent. I wondered again about the weight of my decision, but it was the words of Junia, who consented last, that made it become heavier to bare.

"I may not like keeping secrets," she said, "and I may not like the thought of you traveling alone. But, you're right; Father is ill-equipped for a journey such as this, and I am proud that you are willing to carry the burdens of others."

"Keeping my family and kingdom safe is not a burden," I said. But even so, while I didn't show it, my heart began to race.

In an attempt to keep it from racing anymore, my siblings and I quickly discussed a plan. Chariton and Marcius would give me some of their old clothes that they no longer wore, Festus and Nephele would find me a suitable weapon, Junia and Bryn would help me pack, and Georgia and Letitia would help to alter my appearance. All would be done very early the next morning, and in secret.

Once we were sure of what everyone would do, we left the tower and went back to living the day as if it were any other. I spoke as little as possible to Father and Mother, and every time I did I felt pangs of guilt. I kept assuring myself that what I was about to do was for the best, but I couldn't let the guilt go. In doing so, I ended up getting only two hours of sleep that night, until the sun began to rise, and I realized it was time.

Chariton and Marcius gave me the clothes consisting of boots, leggings, a buttoned shirt with a vest, a cloak to keep me warm, and a pair of fingerless gloves. Georgia and Letitia then got to work helping me transform myself into a boy. Dirt was applied to my cheeks to hide their redness, a piece of hard fabric was wrapped around my chest to flatten it, we even tied my hair up and put on a blond wig Bryn had found over it.

After we were certain I looked convincing enough, we hurried outside into the courtyard at the back of the castle as quietly as we could, then we headed to the open field where one of the pathways led. There, we were greeted by Festus and Nephele, Festus was holding the best sword he could find, and Nephele was holding onto Starfleet, who was saddled and ready. Junia and Bryn then helped load the things I would need onto her, after-which Festus gave me the sword, which I strapped to my belt. When it looked like everything was ready, I breathed a deep sigh as I decided to bid my siblings a fond farewell.

"Brothers and sisters," I said, "I thank you for your assistance, but now, the rest is up to me. I promise I will reach Rivendell safely, and that I will write as soon as possible."

"Promise us one more thing Aminta," Festus said.

I turned toward him, and could see by the troubled look in his eyes that he still did not wish to part with me. Nevertheless, he gave a sigh and said, "Promise that if this ends up becoming more serious than you first thought, that you will return home safely."

I frowned. I hadn't really considered that possibility. If the Ring had really been found, what would Lord Elrond decide to do with it? What if his decision involved me and I had to reveal my identity? Once these questions were brought up, I couldn't escape them, but I soon realized that when faced with a journey such as this, I must be prepared for anything.

I nodded. "I promise."

I then proceeded to hug each of my siblings – from oldest to youngest – and every one of them said their own goodbyes. It was all so moving that by the time I came to Letitia, there were tears in both our eyes. We hugged as fiercely as we could.

"Good luck Aminta," my sister said as positively as she could.

"Thank you sister," I said.

We then reluctantly let go of each other's embrace, and I walked over to Starfleet, put my feet in the stirrups, and hoisted myself up into the saddle. Once the reins were in my hands, I took one final look at my brothers and sisters.

"Well, my siblings, I bid you all farewell. But before I go, I have one last request."

I held the reins tight and said, "Tell Father and Mother I love them."

Before another word could be said, I urged Starfleet forward into a canter and together we went through the field before finding the nearest pathway. Once we did, I found myself unable to resist the urge and looked back for a few brief seconds at the castle, the early morning sun just barely hidden by it, before I turned around and concentrated on the road ahead. It was during those few moments that I realized that I was leaving the only home I had ever known, and going to a place I had never been to. It was all I could do to keep myself from turning back, but despite the temptation, I continued on down the pathway.

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Reviews would be appreciated.


	3. Down the Rabbit Hole

Here's Chapter 3! Thanks for reading and reviewing.

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**Lord of the Rings: Through a Princess's Eyes (Part 1)**

Chapter 3 – Down the Rabbit Hole

For the next hour Starfleet and I cantered down the road, keeping a smooth and steady pace. Every passing minute brought on a fresh need to turn back around and go to the safety of my home, and every time I forced myself to remember that I was now on the road to Rivendell. But whether or not I wanted to go back, my journey had not yet officially begun, for I had a test to pass before I could go any further, a test that I found myself reluctant to face: I had to first trick two members of the Royal Guard ahead.

There are two factions of guards in Lore, each serving a different function. The King's Guard – made up of most of my father's advisors in fact – is assigned to protect the king (and a ruling queen in some cases), and the Royal Guard is assigned to protect the monarch's spouse and children. Most of them also serve as border guards, but they are also trained to protect the royal family at a moment's notice. Overall, their main duty – at least in times of peace – is to ensure that no one of the royal family leaves Lore without an escort, and that was precisely what I planned to do. But in order to do so, I had to convince these two that I was someone else.

We soon encountered a very tall and finely made stone wall which the path ahead went through, and a guard stood on top of each side, standing tall with swords strapped to their belts and (fortunately) facing away from me. As we got closer to them, my heart began to pound with nervousness, not just over whether or not I would succeed, but over the very fact that I was deceiving those who were supposed to protect me. I had always been a terrible liar, but even so, I attempted to calm my pounding heart by assuring myself that I wouldn't be deceiving them directly.

I slowed Starfleet down to a trot as soon as I was sure we were within hearing distance. Then I took the hood of my cloak and pulled it over my head as far as I could, and kept my face slightly downcast. As my heart began to pound so much that it threatened to beat out of my chest, I desperately hoped the guards wouldn't so much as notice the small size of my wrists and see through my disguise.

Even so, I continued forward. I didn't look at either of the two men as I passed between them, and I was by now so worried that I was sure that the sound of my racing heart would be enough to give me away. But I didn't seem to draw attention from either man. I was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when I heard one of the guards speak, making my heart jump.

"What was that?" he asked. I felt myself begin to shiver until I heard the other man's response.

"Must be one of the huntsmen," he replied.

Despite my nerves still causing my fingertips to tingle, I couldn't help but smile a small smile. From what I had just heard, my disguise had served me well that first time and I had succeeded. Still, I kept Starfleet at a trot for the next few minutes until I turned around and saw that I was far enough away to not draw any more attention. I urged Starfleet back into a canter, and now I was certain that my journey to Rivendell had begun.

Together we made our way down the road, endless rows of trees and the occasional field standing on either side. Before long, most of the birds had begun to sing their morning songs. I smiled at the unusual but still comforting company I was going to get. Within the next hour, we made it to the River Lune. Once I slowed Starfleet to a stop, I saw that the path continued on the other side, and I observed the river to see what possible dangers it posed. The blue water was light, indicating it wasn't too deep, and the current wasn't too strong. I quickly weighed my options and decided to go with my first: to try and ride Starfleet through the river.

I clicked my tongue twice and urged her forward by pressing my hands against the base of her neck. She obeyed me and took a few small steps into the river. I could see that she was beginning to hesitate, so I spoke softly to her, and she began to slowly walk through. By the time we were in the middle, the water was high enough to pass her knees, but I kept gently urging her to continue. She did, and before long we were on the other side and on dry ground again.

I then pulled Starfleet to another stop, and turned back around in the saddle to look at the road that led back to the castle one last time. I couldn't help but sigh at the realization that I was beyond the borders of my realm, and was further away from home than I had ever been before in my life. But suddenly, as if sensing my silent displeasure, Starfleet whinnied softly. I turned around and rubbed her neck before looking at the long pathway ahead. After slowly taking in the dangers I would likely face on this pathway, and that I would be far from the safety and comfort of home, I breathed a deeper sigh, gripped the reins tight in my hands, and eased Starfleet into a canter.

We rode for the next several hours. By the twelfth hour, I wondered if my siblings had told Father and Mother, and if Father had even decided to send some of the Royal Guard to find me and bring me home. I made a mental note to be on the lookout for them, trying desperately to avoid the fresh guilt that came with it. And while I did concentrate on the road ahead of me, I also checked the left and right sides of the road for any signs of the Black Riders. Although I didn't know for certain what they – as servants of the Dark Lord – were capable of doing if they discovered me, I did know that I had to be prepared for anything.

But fortunately, that first day posed little to no threats, and once the sun had set completely past the horizon, I decided that it was time for me to find a place to sleep. At one point, after I descended down a sloping path, I noticed a small cave near it. I turned Starfleet toward it and, to my relief, found it was large enough to shelter her as well. I then lifted my leg and dismounted, wincing at the slight sore feeling in both my legs. I wasn't used to riding for this long. And when I remembered that I would be riding for at least the next two weeks, I sighed in frustration.

I then went to work unloading my things off of Starfleet, after which I proceeded to take off her saddle and bridle to give her some ease. I didn't tie her for I knew she wouldn't leave me unless I gave her permission. Once everything was off, I sat down and took the map from one of the bags. I unrolled it, looked for where I was after this day of travel, and saw that I was nearly one hundred miles away from the river. I then looked for my first destination, which was the town of Bree, and realized it was just beyond the Shire. I raised my eyebrows in fascination. I had heard of the Shire several times growing up. It was a quaint little area inhabited by Hobbits – or Halflings as they are sometimes called due to their being shorter than most Men. They also did not wear shoes since their feet were hairy and thick as leather. From what I had learned, the origins of their race were unknown yet were thought to be related in some way to Men, and they usually minded their own business, not caring to meddle with affairs outside their own land. I reasoned that if I wasn't to alarm them I would have to find an alternate road around the Shire to Bree.

After looking the map over one more time, I rolled it back up again and put it away. I then felt my stomach growl and realized how hungry I was, so I took some food from the other bag – consisting of bread and cheese – and I ate. I also took several small drinks from my water-skin. Later, after taking care of a few other things, I took out the two blankets I had brought along – one to protect me from the hard ground and the other to keep me warm – and I arranged them. I also decided that I could use my cloak as a third blanket, thus I wrapped it around me and then laid down.

But I didn't go to sleep right away. Instead, I looked out at the late evening, early night landscape in front of me. The stars began to shine in the now dark sky, and the moon caused shadows to be cast behind the trees ahead. The crickets were now chirping, their night song filling the cool autumn air. It all seemed too calm. I found myself somewhat hesitant to close my eyes, not because of sleeping outside, for I had done that several times before, but because of what would happen once I fell asleep. Would I awaken to an attack from a wild animal, to Father's men with orders to come home, or even – at worst – to an attack from the Black Riders? I knew that all of these things were possible, but I also told myself that I must be ready to face them all. Should it be a wild animal, I must be ready to defend myself. Should it be Father's men, I must be ready with convincing words. Should it even be the Black Riders, I must be ready to fight.

But still, I couldn't resist it anymore. I closed my eyes, and before long, sleep found me. I even dreamed. I dreamt first of my early childhood. I saw myself as a little girl, playing hide-and-seek with my brothers and sisters. She took off running after she was found until I fell down with her knees against her chest, laughing in delight. I envied her, for she had not a care in the world. She knew only happiness and love. I then saw myself as a girl in early adolescence. She was training with her older brother, who was complimenting her on correct stances and moves and assisting her when she got them wrong. Soon, I found myself standing alone, on a cliff overlooking the castle that is my home, and the village in the valley beneath. I looked at magnificent view that the setting golden sun had created. A golden sheen was painted across the green fields, and the surrounding clouds had turned red, indicating that good weather would come the following day. But then once the sun had completely set, I waited for it to return, and it never did. How long I waited, I do not know. However, the sun did not return to greet me, not until I had awoken.

I remained haunted by that dream for the next few days of travel. By the seventh day, while I did reflect on how fortunate I was that I had experienced little to no opposition, but also unfortunate in the matter of my now sore legs due to many hours in the saddle, I still found myself unable to avoid what would plague anyone during travel: homesickness. As I sat in what I assumed to be the fourth cave that week, listening to the pouring rain outside and trying to warm my hands around the makeshift fire I had made, all I could think of was how much I missed my realm. I longed for my warm, safe bed, and the lovely landscapes that greeted me every morning when I awoke. But even more so, I longed for my family, and the days when worry had no hold on me, when Father told me and my siblings the stories he had learned, and when Mother would rock me when I had bad dreams, telling me how much she loved me, and then singing me back to sleep…

That was when I felt a tear travel down my cheek, and I realized how much more I was getting than what I had asked for. _Who am I fooling?_ I asked myself, _No one will take me for a peasant boy. Nor will anyone take me seriously. I have no military experience, little to no political experience, and my kingdom isn't as influential as others._

I even remembered the words of Festus and Nephele, particularly from the meeting in the tower: "Aminta, do you honestly think it wise to simply leave the kingdom by yourself to join a council being held by one of the great Elven lords? … And if you are correct and there are servants of the Dark Lord roaming the roads, who knows what they would do if they got their hands on you?"

Just then, I felt a nudge behind me, making me jump because I was so lost in my thoughts. I turned around and saw that it was Starfleet. She then put her muzzle just over my shoulder. I was immediately puzzled by this. I did know my horse to be good company whenever I felt upset, but never before, or since, had she ever acted so intimate. Did she sense my depression and desire to list my spirits? Or did she simply want to be pet? Whatever the case, I did pet her long face and kiss her on her muzzle, and I suddenly felt better.

I realized in that moment that as a princess, even as one last in the line of succession, I couldn't simply turn my back when things became difficult. My people needed me, my family needed me. I was already on the road to Rivendell, and with seven days of travel under my belt it was too late to turn back. Whether or not I missed home, the future of my people now depended on my actions. Even if I did return home, Father would not have enough time to reach Rivendell for the council. No, I couldn't return to the comfort of home. I made a choice, and now I had the responsibility to act on it. I was going to reach Rivendell no matter what.

The following morning, I looked over the map again and realized that within a few hours I would reach the Shire. I looked for a possible alternate route and decided it would be best to take a pathway north of it. But once that was taken care of, I then had to deal with my sore legs. I grit my teeth and stood up before getting Starfleet into her tack and then jumping into her saddle. I made a mental note to eventually set aside some time to tend to my legs, but for now, I had to continue on the path.

Even when I found myself within the borders of the Shire, I was still on the alert for any sign of the Black Riders. However, I also did take time to enjoy the scenery. It was rather beautiful, with rolling green hills and the trees of the forests I passed through beginning to shed their brightly colored autumn leaves. In one valley I could even see fields full of cornstalks and all sorts of vegetable gardens. I was slightly delayed though when Starfleet insisted on getting a drink from a small waterfall once we came by it. Even so, it all reminded me even more so of my home, but I kept my focus on reaching Bree, which would most likely be within the next few days.

But it wasn't until the day before I reached Bree that I realized how much danger I was in. The sun had just set and I was debating whether or not I should rest, being so close to town, when all of a sudden Starfleet began to walk in place, taking uneven steps and making what I could tell to be frightened noises. Before I could do anything it felt as if Starfleet was going to rear, or even take off with me unable to control her. Though my heart began to pound I couldn't let Starfleet know that I too was nervous. I spoke softly and gently rubbed her neck, and she calmed down long enough for me to get off – with all the pain in my legs for by now they were seriously hurting me – and look around for what could be frightening her.

As I held her by the reins, I looked around for any sign of trouble. But once I looked behind Starfleet my eyes instantly widened with fear. I saw a group of eight or nine riders clad in black, and atop black horses, all heading my way. My heart began to beat even harder, and I immediately went over my possible options of escape when I noticed the path in front of me. It slanted down along with the rest of the sloping hill. Though it was somewhat steep, I decided to take the chance and urge Starfleet down the path. Once I did, I saw that the riders were coming closer, giving me not enough time to run down the road after her. So I did the only thing I could think of: I leaped forward and tumbled down the hill, hitting the ground again and again until I was finally at the bottom with Starfleet trotting toward me. Before long, I saw the riders at the top of the hill all galloping their horses past me, and once the last one was out of my sight, I finally let out a sigh of relief, for I didn't dare breathe once I had seen them then.

I remained still for so long that I had to force myself onto my feet. I silently groaned at the notion of climbing back onto Starfleet, but I reminded myself that I would soon reach Bree, and I got back into the saddle. I urged Starfleet forward, as I allowed her to do so once we reached the Shire after days of endless cantering, and made another mental note to let her rest, for I knew that by now she was probably very tired of carrying me.

The early autumn night soon came, and not long after, pouring rain as well, but I didn't stop to find a place to rest. Even though it would take another few hours to reach Bree, I wasn't going to rest until I had gotten there, and nothing, not even the darkness of night and the rain which soaked my clothes would prevent me from doing so. So strong was my desire to reach my destination that I began to forget the Black Riders I had seen earlier. My memory of them was brought back before I had completely forgotten them though, with a loud, high-pitched cry that caused Starfleet to send her into a fit of panic.

First she neighed in fear, and then she began jerking her head around. It took most of my strength to keep the reins from slipping through my now blistered fingers. And where she had not gotten the chance to do so before, she began to rear on her hind legs. I held my own fear back in an effort to calm her. But before long, I managed, if only barely, to get her under control. I stroked her mane and neck and spoke softly to her as I did before, but I could still see the discomfort in her eyes. I did the only thing I could do to comfort both her and myself at once: I laid my upper body against her neck.

"Oh Starfleet," I said, "we are a couple of misfits aren't we?"

She didn't answer me. But once I saw the bright, full moon finally emerge from behind the clouds, that sight alone was enough to comfort me, and I encouraged Starfleet back into a walk. We were on our way to Bree once more.

We eventually crossed what I had learned from my map to be the Brandywine Bridge, a long, fine one made of stone. Once we were on the other side, I was immediately relieved knowing that now the town of Bree would not be far away. But by the time the front gate came into my view, I slowed Starfleet to a halt, and raised my eyebrows in surprise to discover that it had actually been broken down, leaving the only way into town open. I wondered who could have done this, and remembered the Black Riders I had seen earlier. Had they come through here? To my knowledge only they would be willing to trample down makeshift wooden gates such as these. I looked around once again for any sign of them. The sun was past the horizon, and the early morning exposed both me and Starfleet, but I saw nothing. I breathed a long sigh to release my nerves, yawned a big yawn from having gone through a whole night without sleep, and I dismounted, the mud beneath me splattering my boots once I hit the ground.

I then led Starfleet through the mud, which at one point reached up to my ankles, and did my best to ignore the wounds on my legs until I finally reached the place where the gate once stood. I decided it was time test my disguise a second time, and I cleared my throat before speaking, hoping that I would pass as a boy whose voice hadn't quite broken in yet.

"Hello?" I called, "Hello?"

I suddenly heard footsteps behind the wall ahead of me, and an old, rather bent man wearing a long, worn cloak and a somewhat sour face came around it to face me.

"Yeah?" he asked with a voice that was sourer, "What do you want?"

"Um, is there a place for me and my horse to stay?" I asked, trying to keep the usual formality out of my words.

"You haven't come to join those four hobbits and that ranger fellow have you?" he asked.

I made a puzzled face. "Sir?"

"Strangest folk we've had in a while," he replied, "That ranger barely speaks to anyone but he gladly welcomed those hobbits. One of them even disappeared from plain sight at one point!"

I became even more confused and was about to dismiss the man, when I thought of what he said about that one hobbit "disappearing". That was when I wondered. What did this man exactly mean by that? Did he mean this hobbit simply fled from a crowd and hid, or did he mean that he literally vanished? Could it be that he actually possessed the…?

_No, impossible_, I thought, _No one has the ability to resist the temptation of the One Ring…do they?_

It was no use. I had to know what was going on. And whether or not this posed danger, I would nonetheless be prepared.

"Are they here now?" I asked.

"You're too late laddy," he replied, "They left a couple hours ago."

I closed my eyes and sighed in annoyance before opening them again. "Do you know where they went?"

"Last I heard they were headed west for some Elven place," he replied.

My eyes widened at the last two words and my thoughts were instantly sent into a whirlwind. Were they headed to Rivendell? It was the only "Elven place" near enough that this man would know about. But why would they go there? Had they also been invited? Whatever the case, my mind was now firmly set on my next quest. I had to find these people.

"Thank you," I said.

"Yeah, whatever," he said, waving me off and heading back to his place behind the wall.

I rolled my eyes slightly before turning around and jumping back onto Starfleet. I gathered the reins in my hands and urged Starfleet into a canter. We made our (mud-splattering) way through the town before coming to another gate, one that was still intact. I bribed the man there into letting me pass through, and I was once again back on the trail.

We cantered up a hill behind Bree and then into a small forest. After the small forest, green fields greeted us. The first, rather large, one was green against the now grey, cloudy sky. The next was covered mostly with snow. Once we came upon this field, I slowed Starfleet to a stop and saw what appeared to be a tall man in front of a chestnut pack-pony surrounded by four smaller men wearing no shoes. I immediately knew them to be the ones I was searching for, and I smiled softly at my good fortune. I then encouraged Starfleet into a slow walk and guided her behind the tall bushes that bordered the field. I silently went over what I would say once I came across them, and whether or not they would pose any possible danger. But before I could think about anything else, Starfleet broke into a trot to leap over a fallen log, as I had trained her long ago to do so. Once she landed, my legs, and therefore my wounds, slapped against the saddle, and a sharp pain traveled through both of them. I instantly cried out before I could stop myself, and I ended up slipping out of the saddle entirely and falling flat onto the ground.

I immediately groaned, though quietly, at the fact that I had most likely given myself away. Even so, I pushed up with my hands and forced myself to stand upright. I then looked out slightly from behind one of the bushes that hid me and Starfleet, and I instantly drew back when I saw five pairs of eyes looking my way.

"Is someone there?" a voice asked.

I didn't answer until another, deeper voice reached my ears. "Show yourself!"

I couldn't disobey once I heard that voice. I took Starfleet by the reins, and together, we emerged from behind the bush and walked over to the group of five. I looked further down with every step, feeling my cheeks become hot with embarrassment, and then I finally stopped in front of the man I had learned to be a ranger.

"Look at me," he said. I did so, slowly.

He was a tall man, perhaps as tall as my father. His shoulders, which his dark brown hair fell to, were broad. Though he was probably younger than my father, his grey eyes and the beard that encircled his face caused him to look slightly aged. His clothes, consisting of a long cloak and a belt with a sword strapped to it, indicated that he clearly was a ranger, making me want to choose my words carefully when I spoke to him. He walked toward me until he was only two steps away. He crossed his arms.

"Who are you?" he asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Have you been following us?" one of the hobbits asked.

"Only briefly," I muttered. I regretted doing so immediately.

The ranger raised his hand though, silencing both of us. As I thought carefully of what to say, I tried not to flutter my eyelashes, which is something that I do when I'm nervous, but which, to my knowledge, boys don't do.

"Who am I addressing?" he asked.

I swallowed. I hadn't thought yet of what to call myself. I quickly went over a few names until I found one that satisfied me.

"Aidan," I replied, "My name is Aidan."

"Well then, Aidan, tell me, where do you hail from?"

I pressed my lips together, but then I replied. "I come from the kingdom of Lore."

He raised his eyebrows. "Is that so? I have always thought them to be a reclusive people."

"Usually," I said.

"Then why are you so far from home?" the ranger asked, "State your business."

I took a deep breath, being more careful with my words than ever, and spoke.

"I serve Lore's king. Not long before I left, I heard that he had been invited by Elrond Half-Elven to come to Rivendell and join a council being held by him. He decided to go, but he is also advanced in years. So, I decided to go in his stead. I only heard of you all when I came to Bree, and from what I know you are traveling to Rivendell as well. If it's not an issue, I'd like to join your company. And even if you don't let me, I understand. I can look after myself."

The ranger listened intently as I explained myself, waiting until I was done to speak.

"Foolish and impulsive, but also brave and selfless," he said, "And you are correct. We are traveling to Rivendell." But then, after looking around as if searching for a sign of danger, he asked in a low voice, "Do you know of the Black Riders? Have you ever encountered them?"

"Yes and, yes," I replied in an equally low voice, "I managed to avoid them though, if only barely."

"I see," he said. He then began to slowly walk around me as he said, "There is one more thing I must know before I can consider your request, however."

He then stopped in front of me, and asked with a slightly suspicious voice, "How can I know that you are not a threat to my party?"

"You have my word," I replied. _Even if it isn't completely true_, I added in my mind, hoping it didn't show on my face.

It took all of my effort to merely keep from shivering under all of this questioning. If I made even one slight mistake, not only would he likely not believe my story, he would also probably make a connection between me and the riders. And, of course, I didn't truthfully say who I was. But, hopefully, before long – if I was allowed to join them anyway – I could probably reveal who I was and explain myself further.

He then crossed his arms again, and pressed the top of his fist to his mouth. I could tell that he was wondering whether or not I should be allowed to accompany them. My heart pounded and my face became hot again as I awaited his decision. I cared not what he had chosen; I just wanted to know it.

Before too long though, he put his hands back at his side, indicating that he was now going to reveal his choice.

"Very well," he said, "You have my permission to come with us. But heed my warning."

He took another step toward me and looked me sternly in the eye. He was certainly intimidating, but I refused to show that I felt so.

"Should you give me any indication that you intend to harm anyone in my party, I will immediately cast you out and deal with you in a way I see just. Is that clear?"

I bit my lip at the tone in his voice, but I nodded. "Yes sir. But, what do I call you?"

He stood back away from me, as if to give me comfort now that we had each other's trust. "You may call me Strider."

_Strider, a fitting name for a ranger_, I thought.

Strider then turned toward the hobbits. "Do I have any objections?"

Two of them shook their heads, and the other two looked away.

"Then we have another member in our company," he said, "Is everything packed Mr. Gamgee?"

"Yes Strider," replied the hobbit who stood next to the pony.

"Then we must move on."

As I walked over to Starfleet and took her by the reins again, I silently celebrated my two achievements. I had managed to pass as a credible boy and I was now traveling with good company. But shortly after came new pangs of guilt at deceiving my new traveling party, even if it was for good reasons. I thought of how long I would have to keep my identity secret. Would I be able to keep my disguise until we at least made it to Rivendell? I didn't know. I decided I could only live in the present and simply be thankful that things had gone according to plan – at least for now.

Before long though, I was approached by one of the hobbits.

"She's a fine horse," he said, "Where did you get her?"

I bit my lip and thought of what to say, since a peasant probably couldn't afford a horse as fine as mine.

"I've known her for a long time," I finally said. Then I looked sternly at him. "I didn't steal her though, if that's what you're thinking."

"Oh, no, of course not. It didn't even cross my mind."

I smirked slightly before turning my eyes back onto the path ahead.

"How long have you been on the road?" he asked.

"Nearly two weeks," I replied, "And it feels as though my legs are about to fall off."

"Let me take your horse for you then," he said, "You need the rest."

I raised my eyebrows at such a sudden act of kindness, considering that we had known each other less than a day. "Um, thank you," I said before handing him the reins. He took them quickly, and I looked away from him to hide the redness I could feel returning to my cheeks.

I had not gotten a good look at any of the hobbits, but I immediately knew this one to be different. He came to about my height, and was the only one with dark hair while the rest were fair-headed. But what struck me most about him were his eyes. Never before had I seen eyes so big and blue, the color of the sky on a fine summer day. But I kept my eyes away from him and on the path ahead, deciding to concentrate on something less, awkward.

"You said your name was Aidan?" he then asked.

I looked back to him and nodded. "Yes."

"Then, let me introduce myself," he said, "Frodo Baggins of the Shire at your service."

_Frodo, a nice name_, I thought.

Suddenly, we heard the clattering of metal behind us. We turned around and saw that some cooking instruments had fallen off the packs the pony was carrying. The hobbit who was leading the pony gave a frustrated groan and proceeded to pick up the instruments.

"What's his name?" I asked.

"Samwise Gamgee at your service Mr. Aidan," the hobbit replied. He turned toward me once he had gotten everything back onto the pony. "You can call me Sam, though. Most do."

"Very well," I said before Frodo and I turned around.

I then saw the two hobbits in front of us and remembered that I didn't know their names either. "And who are they?"

"My kin," Frodo replied, "Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took, or Merry and Pippin as we call them."

"Ah," I nodded. But suddenly, I became confused. "Which one is Merry and which is Pippin?"

They both looked back at us and said in unison, "Me."

Now I was even more confused. But then Frodo pointed at one and then the other while speaking their respective names. "That's Merry. That's Pippin."

"'Ello Aidan," Pippin smiled.

I gave a slight smile in return, but soon we began traveling up a small hill, which made walking for me even more painful and tiring. I refused to show it, however, for fear that someone might ask for me to be examined.

Once it was early evening, though, we came across another frustrating obstacle: a marshland full of muddy water and flies, horrid ones that bite. I then took Starfleet from Frodo since she would likely trust only me to lead her through an environment such as this. Despite the annoyances however, we all braved the bugs and water, although traveled up past my knees and caused the wounds on my legs to sting. But by now I was so exhausted that I didn't care, nor did I even bother to swat at the flies swarming around us, though I saw Merry and Pippin in front of me doing so.

"What do they eat when they can't get Hobbit?" Merry complained.

Just then, Pippin tripped and fell face-first into the dirty water. As he shook his head in an attempt to get it off, I couldn't help but pity him. I even offered my hand once I came next to him. He took it, and I grit my teeth helping him up, realizing that he was heavier than I thought.

Before long, the sky began to grow dark, and once it was completely black, Strider decided that it was time for us to stop and make camp for the night. I couldn't have been more relieved as I finally sat down after wearing my feet to the bone. Strider went off to find food, and after getting my own things off of Starfleet, I helped the hobbits in getting their gear off of the pony, whose name I had learned to be Bill. We even managed to make a small fire, and Strider returned soon after with a grown deer over his back. I decided to turn away, however, when he began cutting it up, because while I had eaten deer-meat before, I did not particularly enjoy watching it being prepared.

After we ate and the fire was doused, the hobbits all went to sleep while Strider stayed awake, keeping watch I imagine. I myself was still awake, sitting with Starfleet, speaking softly to her and petting her. After a while, I began to hear Strider singing an Elvish song. Though I couldn't make out the words, I could tell from the tune that it was a soft song. Frodo must have taken notice as well, because he soon sat up from the ground.

"Who is she?" he asked, "This woman you sing of?"

Strider looked back only briefly before turning around again, a solemn look on his face.

"'Tis the Lay of Lúthien," he explained, "the Elf maiden who gave her love to Beren, a mortal."

"What happened to her?" Frodo asked.

"She died," Strider replied after a few silent moments. He then turned around to address Frodo again.

"Get some sleep Frodo."

Frodo laid back down, and then Strider turned toward me. "You too Aidan. We have a long way ahead of us."

I nodded and got down from the rock I was sitting on before settling into my blankets.

However, I didn't go to sleep right then. I instead looked up at the completely black sky, not a star to be seen. I allowed my mind to wander. I had traveled further from home than I had ever been, with nearly two weeks on my record. And today, I had met the most peculiar group of people, who allowed me to accompany them. I still did not know what drove them to go to Rivendell, but I did know that it had to be really important. However, it was the event that had just occurred that I wondered about most. How could a ranger know an Elvish song about the legendary Lúthien and her beloved Beren? It was one of my favorite stories as a child: how Lúthien, said to be the fairest maiden of any race to live, and Beren, a mortal man of the House of Bëor, embarked together on a quest for the legendary Silmaril, which was to serve as Beren's bride-price for his love. It struck me as odd that Strider could know of such a tale, and even more so that Frodo, a Hobbit, knew Elvish.

I had no answer for either of these questions, but I eventually decided that dwelling on them would not give me the rest I now needed. Thus, shortly after, I closed my eyes, and soon found the peaceful slumber that had so long evaded me.

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Reviews would be appreciated.


	4. Attack on Amon Sul

Here's Chapter 4! Thanks for reading and reviewing.

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**Lord of the Rings: Through a Princess's Eyes (Part 1)**

Chapter 4 – Attack on Amon Sûl

I slept a dreamless sleep, but when I awoke, I found that I was the first one to do so. Everyone around me was still asleep; even Strider had fallen asleep. Only Bill and Starfleet were aware that I was now awake. The sky was still cloudy, and a dark grey, so I guessed that it was early morning. Even so, I sat up, and instantly felt a sharp pain shoot through both my legs. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, and I immediately realized that I needed to do something about my wounds now, or I would never be able to and they would keep getting worse. I quickly thought of what I could do, when I remembered something I had seen last night: a type of weed that I recognized and could be used to heal my wounds, even if the stinging didn't immediately stop.

I decided to take the risk and go look for it. I took a small pack of things off of Starfleet, and put my finger to my lips before she could whinny after me. I then walked as quietly as I could (not a simple thing to do in a marshland) through the pools of dirty water in search for the weed, looking back after nearly every step to make sure I didn't disturb my new comrades.

I eventually found the weed in front of a line of trees bordering the marshland, and was instantly grateful for the cover available to me. I grabbed the weed and pulled, but I found that its roots were fixed to the ground. I rolled my eyes in frustration at the notion how this was possible, considering the muddy terrain, but I tried again. I grit my teeth and pulled as hard as I could, and although I managed to get it out, I ended up falling into the brown water beneath me with a loud splash.

I instantly bit my lip (so much so that I tasted blood), and shut my eyes, knowing that if my previous actions didn't wake everyone, this surely would. But soon, after a few moments of silence, I opened my eyes again, and realized my amazing luck when I saw that I hadn't disturbed anyone. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief and slowly stood up before making my way through the trees. Once I was sure I was safe, I took the things I needed out of my pack and got to work.

I took the weed's seeds – which contained the substances that would help my wounds to heal – and crushed them into powder between two smoothly surfaced stones. I then took my water-skin and poured some of it into a wooden mortar, since dirty water would not be the wisest choice. Then I poured the powder in, took out a wooden pestle, and began stirring the water and powder together until I had made a fine pasty substance. Soon came the embarrassing part.

After I was sure that the powder and water will well mixed, I stood up and looked around – not just in the area but through the trees as well – to make sure that no one could see me. When I saw no one, I took a deep breath, and took off my boots, followed by my leggings. Though no one was there, I grew red in the face, because if someone simply came by, not only would my secret be exposed, but so would I. I couldn't bear the thought. Even so, I went back to focusing on what I was doing. I took off my gloves, picked up the paste with my fingers, and began rubbing the paste on my wounds, the stinging as sharp as ever, but I cared not. I only hoped that the paste would do what it was supposed to do, and silently thanked my biological science tutor for teaching me about these plants and how to use a mortar and pestle.

However, not long after I had finished applying the paste to the wounds on my other leg, my eyes widened when I suddenly heard my male name being called, by Strider.

"Aidan," he called, "where are you?"

I quickly cleared my throat and called back in my male voice, "I'm coming!"

I then pulled back on my leggings, boots, and gloves before I packed everything back up and walked through the trees back toward the camp. Everyone was now awake. Sam was arranging the cooking instruments while Frodo, Merry, and Pippin were trying to start a fire. I nodded at Strider to let him know that I knew he wanted to speak to me, and put my pack back on Starfleet before walking over to him, my eyes lowered to show respect.

"Where have you been?" he asked, "And why do you look so dirty?"

I quickly thought of what to say when I decided to go with the one that first came to my mind. "I was, taking care of some, things," I replied, hoping I wouldn't embarrass him, "And, I fell."

"I see," he said, "But I do not want anyone in this company wandering off without first informing me. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir."

"Very well. You must eat, but we have to be moving again within the next hour."

I nodded and went back with Strider to where the hobbits were.

To my dismay, we ended up walking through the marshland for the next seven days. Not only that, but while the wounds on my legs did slowly heal – both through the weed paste and walking on foot – I soon found myself having to deal with another painful crisis; for the first two days after I had met Strider and the hobbits, my monthly course began.

I was prepared though. I had brought woolen pads to catch the blood and fluid along with herbs I could crush and mix into my water to drink for pain. Unfortunately, I could only apply either of these at night, when everyone else was asleep, leaving me with less hours of rest and feeling so tired at times that I wondered if I would simply keel over. And to make matters worse, more than once I had to go through a full day without the herbal mixture, leaving me with the pain that all women able to bear children are plagued with. Needless to say, I got quite a few suspicious stares by Merry and Pippin, along with questions regarding my wellbeing.

"No, I'm well," I always said. I'm still amazed that I managed to keep a straight face through it all.

Such is the effect of company. Had I been alone, I likely would have lost my mind by now. But I once again found strength to continue. And it did not come solely from my new traveling party. Although we didn't speak very much, I couldn't help but notice how Frodo rarely complained, if at all. He also seemed to be completely at odds with what I expected a hobbit's personality to be like. He wasn't very talkative, and was somewhat distant. Yet I slowly found myself admiring what I knew to be uncommon strength from him. However, why he, the other hobbits, and Strider were traveling to Rivendell was still a mystery to me. I didn't want to ask, thinking it too serious a subject. But I told them my reasons, why would they not tell me theirs? What was so important about their journey that they had to keep it secret from me? Even though I thought it somewhat reasonable considering we had just met, I still couldn't get rid of the thought. I could only hope that once we got to Rivendell all would be revealed.

But for now, I had to concentrate on getting through this environment. It was October now, and the weather was getting colder. I was more than relieved when we made it out of the marshland and onto dry ground again. I was not pleased, though, when we ended up adding another seven days of travel to our journey. Overall, however, I was fairly content with what I was given, knowing that it could be much worse. Oh, little did I know that on October the Fourteenth, our situation would nearly plummet into an abyss.

It was early evening, and the sun still hadn't emerged from the clouds, much to my displeasure, and we were crossing what I assumed to be the fifth empty field that day. At the end, however, was a circular stone structure atop a hill made of rock. It was clearly ruined, with broken columns and moss from the hill growing around it. I wondered if we would spend the night there or simply go around it and add another hour or two to our traveling record. I hoped silently for the former.

Before long, Strider stopped in front the tower.

"This was the great watchtower of Amon Sûl," I heard him say. He then turned around toward all of us and said, "We shall rest here tonight."

I immediately let out a relieved sigh, and I turned around once I heard the hobbits do the same. They were about as tired as I, but I couldn't help but smile.

"Come lads," I said, "It's not much further."

Once we were at the foot of the hill, Sam tied Bill while I left Starfleet. I took my blankets off of her, and then I proceeded up the hill after the rest. The path up was somewhat narrow, and the hill rather tall, but I kept my eyes trained on the place where we would most likely rest: a small cave that went into the hill near the top.

I gave a bigger sigh than earlier once I finally sat down. I was sure that if I took any more steps my feet would fall off, but when I saw that the others were just as happy to stop, I smiled, knowing I wasn't alone in my feelings. I also noticed how significantly darker it had gotten ever since we arrived at the tower. The clouds were an ominous dark grey color, allowing only a small amount of the light of the setting sun to seep through. There was also the faint sound of wind blowing through cracked stone, which I had never heard while we were in the wilderness. Although I didn't have any real reason to feel so, I became nervous.

Strider then walked over to us, a large bundle in his hands. He put it down in front of us and revealed that it contained four swords. I wasn't bothered by the fact that there wasn't a fifth. He likely saw that I had my own.

"These are for you," he said, tossing one to each of the hobbits, "Keep them close. I'm going to have a look around."

As I watched the hobbits unsheathe their swords, I couldn't help but be amused by their wondering at their new weapons. Then again, that was probably because I had grown up around swords and had been (somewhat) trained to use them. But why was Strider giving the hobbits these swords now? Did he fear that the Black Riders – or Ringwraiths, as I had learned them to be – would attack, now that we were less than seven days from Rivendell?

Strider then stood up, holding the hilt of his sword with both hands.

"Stay here," he said before turning around and walking down the narrow pathway.

It was in that moment that I decided that I had remained in my suspicions for far too long. I had to know why it was so urgent that a ranger and four hobbits get to Rivendell. I had to know what they were hiding. And I would no longer be shy about it. Once Strider returned, I was going to ask him these questions, and I was determined to receive answers. But suddenly, a big yawn escaped my lips, making me realize how tired I truly was. I decided that a rest was in order, but I wouldn't sleep for long. I arranged my blankets a few feet away from the hobbits, not speaking a word to them, and I settled inside the blankets until I was comfortable before closing my eyes.

At one point, I began hearing voices behind me. I dismissed them, recognizing them as the hobbits' voices, but before I could try to go back to sleep I heard Frodo shout, "What are you doing?"

Curiosity got the best of me. I rubbed my eyes once I opened them, sat up, turned around, and my eyes widened in shock when I saw that Sam, Merry, and Pippin had made a fire, and we were nearly at the top of the tower! Ground fires might be safe, but a fire this high enough to be seen would surely give us away.

"We saved some for you Mr. Frodo," Sam said, offering some food to him. He then turned to me and asked, "Do you want some Mr. Aidan?"

I didn't answer. I could only give a startled face at the fact that he, Merry, and Pippin were acting as if we were all on a holiday.

Fortunately, I wasn't the only one who felt this way. I saw that Frodo's eyes were just as widened with shock as mine. He immediately stood up, ran over to the fire, and began stamping it out with his foot.

"Put it out you fools!" he insisted, "Put it out!"

"Oh that's nice," Pippin said, "ash on my tomatoes."

I rolled my eyes at him and was relieved that Frodo had managed to stamp out the fire, when a piercing cry loud enough to wake the dead reached my ears. My heart immediately sank, for I recognized that cry. The wraiths had found us. I joined the hobbits as they looked over the edge, and my heart instantly began to race when I saw five of them making their way through the mist and heading toward the foot of the tower. We all hastily pulled out our swords.

"Go!" Frodo urged us.

We all hurried as fast as we could up the stairs to the top. Before long we were all back to back, the sound of the wind blowing through the cracks of broken stone filling me with even more fear than before. With our swords firmly in hand, we looked this way and that for the wraiths, each passing minute striking more fear into our hearts. But it wasn't until I heard the sounds of a sword being drawn from its scabbard and of metal against stone that my heart raced so fast I feared it would stop altogether.

Even so, I turned around, and before us stood the five wraiths, swords drawn, and slowly walking toward us. Now that I saw them more clearly, they frightened me even more. They were tall, their robes blacker than the night sky, and their visible hands and feet were clad with armor. Their most terrifying feature was that while the hoods of their robes covered their heads, their faces were nowhere to be seen, though I didn't imagine any of them having one.

"Back you devils!" Sam shouted. He then lunged forward with his sword, but he was immediately struck down and thrown aside. My eyes widened in shock when I saw his head hit a rock, rendering him unconscious.

Merry and Pippin then moved in front of me and Frodo, but they too proved to be no match for the wraiths, and were thrown aside as well.

Now only Frodo and I were left to face them. But before I could think of what to do, Frodo dropped his sword, tripped, and fell to the floor, his face frozen with fear. Once I saw the distress that filled him, once I saw the one I had admired for his composure now crippled with the agony that weighed down his heart, I was immediately filled not with terror, but with rage. I turned around toward the wraiths and decided that if they were so determined to bring harm to Frodo, the other hobbits, and even myself, I would be just as determined to show them that it wouldn't be easy.

Tightly gripping the hilt of my sword with both hands, I ran forward to the nearest wraith and swung the blade at him. He immediately blocked it with his own, and soon the edges of our blades were scrapping against each other in a bitter stalemate, the sound drilling itself into my ears.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of another sword being unsheathed. Without relieving the force I was pressing on my opponent, I slowly turned around, and saw that the wraith in the center, now holding two swords in his hands, was headed toward Frodo. Frodo backed away, but the wraith continued to intimidate him. It was then that I saw why this one had targeted him, and all of my questions from earlier were answered: Frodo held what I knew to be the One Ring in his hand. Why he had it, and how and when he came by it, I did not know, but I saw that he was going to put it on to make himself invisible. I reasoned though, that it would be no use, because if the Ringwraiths were servants of the Dark Lord, they would surely see Frodo whether or not he had the ring on.

Our eyes then met, and I did the only thing I could think to do: I shook my head and mouthed the word "no". But then, despite my objection, Frodo put the ring on his finger, and he vanished from my sight.

Once he disappeared, the wind was immediately knocked out of me, as I was flung forward by the wraith I was clashing swords with. When I hit the ground, I instantly felt a sharp pain travel up my back. I cried out, but my cries of distress were lost to the wind.

As I lay there on the cold, stone floor, time seemed to slow down. All I could hear was the strong beat of my heart, and all I could feel was the pulse traveling through my head. I worried what would become of my friends. But after what had seemed like a thousand years, I feared I would pass out. However, just as I was closing my eyes, I heard two shouts: one of tormented terror, and the other one I had never been happier to hear. Strider had returned!

I forced myself to open my eyes, sat up in spite of the horrendous pain in my back, and I watched as Strider viciously attacked the wraiths with a vengeance. He wielded not only his sword but a lit torch as well, and he fiercely swung both at the wraiths, who were now quickly backing away in fear.

But before I could relish in my relief, I heard a third shout, one of anguish. I looked in the direction that it had come from and saw that Frodo had taken off the ring, and he looked like he was experiencing what I could only assume was the worst pain imaginable.

Ignoring my own pains, I stood up, hurried over to Frodo, and knelt beside him. Sam immediately joined me, and soon so did Merry and Pippin, all of our faces wrought with fear and concern. I saw a small amount of darkened blood leaking through Frodo's cloak on his shoulder, and I feared the worst.

But before I could dwell on it anymore, the cries of the wraiths filled my ears, and I turned to again watch Strider as he fought them. He managed to set two on fire with his torch, and he struck swords with another until he fell over the edge. The fourth simply fled the place altogether. Then the fifth stood behind him, ready to strike, but Strider turned around and flung his torch at him. The wraith's black robes instantly burst into flames, and he fled the scene immediately.

Frodo's groans quickly brought my attention back to him, but I could only hope that Strider would be able to help.

"Strider!" Sam called.

Strider came over in haste, knelt down, and picked up the sword of one of the riders.

"Help him Strider," Sam insisted.

"He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade," Strider declared as the blade of the sword faded into the wind. He then stood up and put his arms around Frodo, who only moaned as Strider picked him up. "This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs Elvish medicine."

The hobbits and I then stood up, and we were about to follow Strider when the trauma of what I had just experienced caught up with my mind and body. It was all too much. I put my hand to my forehead and groaned as I felt myself stumble forward before arms caught me.

"Oh no Aidan, not you too," I heard Sam say. He then wrapped my left arm around Merry's shoulders and my right arm around Pippin's.

"Get him up on his horse," he said before I heard him leave.

Quickly but steadily, Merry and Pippin helped me down the stairs, through the cave, and then down to the narrow pathway. When we made it to the ground below, I was then hoisted up on Starfleet, my upper body laying against her neck, and I felt her walk forward, knowing that she was probably being led, and in haste. But while I too was hurt, I knew Frodo's condition was ten times worse, and he was all I thought about as I was led down the mountain and as I was on Starfleet while she was being led.

Before long, we entered a forest, and though the wraiths were gone, I could still hear their dead-awakening cries as they echoed through the trees.

"Hurry!" Strider called.

"We're six days from Rivendell!" Sam called back, "He'll never make it!"

_Frodo will make it_, I immediately thought, _He must_. But while I kept reminding myself of the remarkable strength that I knew Frodo had, there was still that doubt that hung in the back of my mind, plaguing my hopes.

I then felt something wet on my cheek. Thinking it was a tear, I let my fingers touch it. But when I drew them back away, I saw that my fingertips were stained not with clear tears, but with red blood. My cheek had been cut on the tower. The sight did not comfort me, but even so, I soon no longer had the strength to stay awake, and I finally let my eyes close and surrendered myself to a state of unconsciousness.

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Reviews would be appreciated.


	5. Flight to the Ford

Here's Chapter 5! Thanks for reading and reviewing.

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**Lord of the Rings: Through a Princess's Eyes (Part 1)**

Chapter 5 – Flight to the Ford

The following five days were some of the longest of my life. I was filled with so much anxiety that I was surprised that I managed to keep my sanity intact. Had I been allowed to help more, I probably would have done much better keeping it in my grasp. Whenever I am nervous, I look for things to do, since it gives me something else to be occupied with. I barely even cared about my own injuries, as I was so concerned for Frodo.

Even so, while the hobbits did what they could to help, I was ordered by Strider to rest. At first I felt as I always feel when I'm told to stay in bed: I felt restless and frustrated. Yet I also wanted to follow Strider's orders, for I saw what he was like when he was angry and feared antagonizing him – though I did have the nerve to insist that I was fine when he approached me on the first day and asked if I was wounded, for if I lifted my shirt to show him my back, my secret would be discovered. Whatever I felt, however, no matter how hard I tried to rest, my mind refused to be tied down from its endless wandering. So I formed a plan: If I couldn't help Frodo like the other hobbits could, perhaps I could do so in my own, secretive ways. But I would have to be more careful than in the marshland over two weeks ago. If Strider caught me, I had nearly no idea what he would do to punish me. Thus, I did the only thing I could do: I waited, waited for the perfect opportunity to make my move.

It came in the early hours of the morning on the second day. As I had barely slept that night, I was awake before anyone else. I raised myself up into a sitting position, not bothering to stretch, and I began to think of what I could do as I watched the morning sun's golden light glimmer behind the trees. It wasn't long before I got an idea. Last night, I heard Sam discover that Frodo's water-skin was running low, and, while I don't think anyone else noticed, I heard flowing water down in a ravine a few yards away.

I then stood on both legs, and walked forward as quietly as I could, looking at the ground before making a step to make sure I didn't step on a twig or a rock. Though I only started out a few feet away from them, I was still filled with relief that I had made it to where the hobbits slept without waking them. I slowly reached down, my lips pressed together with nervousness, and grabbed the water-skin beside Frodo. Once I had it safely in my hands, I turned around and snuck away from the hobbits. When I was sure that I was at a safe distance, I hurried, quietly, over to the top of the ravine.

My eyes widened when I saw that it was steeper than I expected, but still, I looked for a safe way down – despite the leaf-covered ground not making it easy. I grabbed onto a branch in case I slipped on the first step, but when I didn't, I let go and continued forward. Remarkably, I managed to make it all the way down without slipping, but I had overestimated my good fortune. When I was at the bottom of the ravine, I took a step forward, but my foot got caught in a branch, and I tripped. Though I managed to catch myself, the sudden pain that shot through my back caused my stomach to lurch, and, before I could think to prevent it, I vomited.

As I heard my moans of discomfort echo through the trees, I knew without a doubt that my cover was lost. Needless to say, the rest of the bile coming out through my nose did nothing to lift my spirits. Nonetheless, I sat down on my knees so I could take time to catch my breath. Once I had enough strength, though I was sure I had awoken one of my comrades, I slowly stood back up and walked toward the river.

I knelt down, opened the water-skin, and let the river fill it with fresh water. Once it was full, I closed it again, turned around, and walked back toward the foot of the slope. Putting my hands on the ground, I proceeded back up; and once I was at the top again, I grabbed a low branch, and pulled myself back up onto the flat ground.

I kept my face downcast as I walked across the field back to the encampment, not wanting to have to face whoever I had disturbed. At first, I wasn't even sure if I had awoken anyone, until I saw two leather boots in front of me, and I instantly became nervous. However, I lifted my head and looked up to see Strider, his arms crossed and his face rigid. Though he didn't really show it, I could tell he was not pleased with me. He raised his eyebrows at me, waiting for me to speak.

I sighed and looked down in an attempt to escape the intimidation I was feeling. "I'm sorry for disobeying you Strider."

I looked back up again, taking advantage of the slightest feeling of confidence, and stated, "I only wanted to help."

I pressed my lips together, expecting Strider to burst into anger, but instead, he simply held out his hand. I was confused at first, until I remembered that I was holding the full water-skin in my right hand, and I handed it to him.

"I appreciate that you want to help Aidan," Strider said in a low, stern voice once he'd taken it, "But when you yourself are hurt and I order you to rest, I expect my orders to be followed."

"Of course," I nodded.

"Besides," he went on, becoming slightly angrier, "the Ringwraiths are on our trail. If they had found you, your life would have been in grave danger!"

I nodded again, becoming more embarrassed because I had forgotten about the wraiths, thus unwittingly putting my safety at risk. "I know."

"And I suppose you also now know better to obey my orders," Strider said, the anger having left his voice, "I'm going to help you, but if you disobey me again, I won't be as kind as I am now, is that clear?"

I bit my lip, not willing to think of a worse punishment. "Yes sir," I replied. I felt so stupid and ashamed in that moment, but I did my best not to show it.

For the rest of the day, I did as I was originally told, and rested. Whether it was by my own choice or simply because of my body's condition, I did manage to get a few hours of sleep. Even so, we were still four days from Rivendell, and I was not looking forward to the hardship that I knew lay ahead of us.

The next few days that followed passed practically like a blur for me. I barely remember anything other than sleeping, being spoon-fed hot soup, and feeling as though my body was on fire. I still wonder how I managed to keep my identity a secret through it all. Even so, if there is anything I do remember clearly, it is the constant worry I felt over Frodo. Every day I anxiously awaited Strider's verdict on his condition, and, no matter how many times I had heard it, I would always be immensely relieved when I heard that he was still alive. However, we still had to get to Rivendell as quickly as we could, and I still wanted to help in some way.

At one point, I had fallen asleep while on Starfleet, and after a long, deep slumber, I awoke and found myself laying on the ground. Two people holding torches sat on either side of me, and once my vision had cleared, I recognized them as Merry and Pippin. Pippin was dabbing a wet rag against my forehead. I looked to my right and saw in a circle three large, cracked rocks which looked like they had been made in the likeness of trolls. Sam sat near them, trying to warm himself. And I saw Strider far away, holding a torch and keeping watch. I then looked all around and realized that we were in another forest, the sky was dark. Were we traveling for the night?

I tried to sit up, but Merry gently pushed me back down.

"Easy Aidan," he said, "Strider ordered us to make sure you get some rest. You've been running a serious fever."

I wanted to roll my eyes, for I had been getting more rest than I cared to remember, even if I did have a fever. Still, I wanted my questions to be answered.

"What's the date, and the time?" I asked.

"It's the Twentieth of October," Pippin replied, "And it's early morning."

We _had _been traveling all night. I prayed we would reach Rivendell within the next few hours. That was when I remembered Frodo. I had to know now how he was faring.

"Frodo, where is he?" I asked, "Is he all right?"

"He's over there," Pippin said, pointing to the far right.

I spotted him at once, and before either Pippin or Merry could do anything, I shot up and hurried over to where Frodo was. My eyes immediately widened when I saw his condition. He was sweating, his skin was so pale it was nearly white, and his eyes looked so cloudy I wondered if he could see at all.

Sam sat next to him, showing as much concern as I.

"Look Frodo, it's Mr. Bilbo's trolls," he said.

Frodo groaned in response, and Sam felt his face. "Mr. Frodo?"

He then turned to Strider. "He's going cold."

"Is he going to die?" Pippin asked.

Strider turned around and replied, "He is passing into the shadow world. He will soon become a wraith like them."

And when I didn't think things could get much worse, we immediately heard the cry of the Ringwraiths. I could only sigh with sadness and put my head in my hand.

"They're close," Merry said.

Strider then walked over to Sam. "Sam," he said, "do you know the Athelas plant?"

"Athelas?"

"Kingsfoil."

"Kingsfoil?" Sam asked, "That's a weed."

"It may help to slow the poison, hurry!"

Strider turned and ran through the trees, Sam following. Once they had left, I turned back to Frodo. And when I saw his condition again, my heart felt so heavy that I feared tears would fall down my cheeks. I wondered how things could have taken a turn for the worse in such a small amount of time, and then how Frodo could have carried the One Ring the whole time I had known him, without me knowing it. Though I did not know why he carried it, I would not have guessed otherwise before that he was. Not only had he shown remarkable stamina during our journey; he had shown impressive resistance to the power of the ring, and I hadn't even known until only a few days ago. To my knowledge, not even the Elves could resist the ring the way that he did. But now…

I could not stand it. If we didn't get him to Rivendell soon, Frodo would become a servant of evil. Though I knew not why, I cared not that I had only known him for less than a month. I felt my soul would be crushed if Frodo's current fate came to be. But there was one thing I did know: Whatever I could do, and whether or not I was in a powerful position, I vowed that I would never let it happen. The Dark Lord and his servants would not succeed here. However, I still wondered how we were going to get him to Rivendell in the little time we had left.

Before long, I received my answer.

Not long after Sam returned with the plant and started to prepare it, I heard hoofbeats on the path ahead. Thinking it was a Ringwraith, I pressed my lips together, and looked toward the sound, waiting for him to appear. But then, to my utter surprise, what I saw wasn't a wraith at all. Instead, I saw an Elf maiden. Though I had never seen an Elf in person, I immediately knew her to be one. She rode astride a grey horse and wore a dark grey riding coat. Her skin was pale against the dark sky, her eyes were a deep blue color that would rival sapphires, her midnight black hair fell to her waist, and, like all Elves, her ears pointed upward. Indeed, she was beautiful.

She slowed her horse to a halt, dismounted, walked over to Frodo, and knelt down next to him. She spoke to him softly in Elvish.

_"Frodo. I am Arwen, I have come to help you," _she said, _"Hear my voice. Come back to the light."_

Strider then came up behind her, and began preparing the Athelas while Arwen tried to comfort Frodo.

"Who is she?" I heard Merry behind me ask.

"She's an Elf," Sam replied.

"He's fading," Arwen frowned as she pulled back Frodo's shirt, "He's not going to last."

Strider then put the plant on the wound, causing Frodo to groan with pain, and me to bite my lip.

"We must get him to my father," Arwen suddenly said. And my heart leaped when I heard her, for I knew that she could only be speaking of one person. Lord Elrond was her father!

Strider hastily picked Frodo up, and walked with Arwen over to her horse.

"Where are you taking him?" Merry asked. But they ignored him.

"I have been looking for you for two days," Arwen said to Strider, "There are five wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know."

Strider put Frodo on Arwen's horse, and began speaking to her in Elvish.

_"Stay with the hobbits and the boy. I will send horses for you."_

_"I am the faster rider," _she insisted, _"I will take him."_

_"The road is too dangerous."_

"What are they saying?" I heard Pippin ask.

And before I thought about it, I replied, "It's Elvish."

Sam, Merry, and Pippin, all then looked at me with confusion, and I immediately realized what I had said. I averted their gaze and bit my lip in embarrassment. A peasant boy wouldn't know Elvish! Especially if he lived so far away from them. But nonetheless, I continued to listen to Strider and Arwen.

_"Frodo is dying," _Arwen said, _"If I can get across the river, the power of my people will protect him. _I do not fear them."

After a moment of silence, Strider replied, _"As you wish."_

Suddenly, in those last few moments hearing Arwen's words, I couldn't help but once again feel the need to help. I cared not that I had a fever. I wasn't going to just sit there and do nothing. Before long, however, I decided that even though I could not protect Frodo on Amon Sûl, I would make sure that he got safely to Rivendell as soon as possible. And as far as I was concerned, the only way for me to do that was to see it for myself.

"Wait!" I shouted. Everyone immediately looked at me, but I refused to be intimidated.

"I'm coming with you Arwen," I declared.

"Aidan, don't be so foolish," Strider said, "You aren't very well yourself."

"That does not matter!" I insisted, "I've been doing too little for too long. Besides, I can ride just as well as Arwen can, with or without this fever."

I then looked him firmly in the eye and said, "I will be fine."

Another few moments of silence passed as I anticipated Strider's decision. I bit my lip until I was sure it would bleed, but before long, Strider nodded.

"Very well, your horse is over there."

I nodded and immediately went to where he pointed.

Once I was at her side, I hastily took off all of the things Starfleet had been carrying for me on her back. I didn't care if the hobbits or Strider found what was in the bags. I wouldn't be able to ride her as fast if she was carrying all of this load.

When I did get everything off of her. I jumped into the saddle, gathered the reins in my hands, and walked her over beside Arwen's horse. She was already in the saddle, with Frodo sitting in front of her. She smiled at me and nodded her approval.

Strider then came over and stood beside us. "Arwen, Aidan, ride hard. Don't look back."

We both nodded. Arwen then held Frodo tightly against her, and urged her horse into a canter. I gripped the reins tightly and urged Starfleet into the same gait, and soon we both were on our way through the forest, and toward Rivendell.

"What are you doing?" Sam called, "Those wraiths are still out there!"

We ignored him, not because we didn't care, but because it didn't matter whether or not the wraiths would follow us. We had to get Frodo away from them.

Arwen and I rode our horses as fast as we could. Once we were out of the forest, we galloped across a vast, open field, and the sun had risen over the distant horizon, lighting our path for us. Riding Starfleet at this speed immediately evoked memories of riding her in the open fields back home. But now I wasn't riding for fun. I was riding for what was perhaps the most important errand of my life. All I could concentrate on was seeing that Frodo got safely across the river, and then into Rivendell.

After a while, we came upon another field, one dotted with small groups of trees. I was firmly set on navigating this unfamiliar terrain, when I saw black out of the corner of my eye. Though my heart began to race, I turned my head toward it, and my eyes widened when I saw one of the Ringwraiths atop his black horse. I then heard a faint cry. I turned my head the other way, and saw another one.

"Arwen!" I shouted.

I looked toward her, and she turned her head to me and nodded, letting me know that she had seen them too. Another, louder cry reached my ears, and when I turned my head around one last time, my heart beat fearfully against my chest at what I saw. All nine of the wraiths were following us. But instead of stopping, we pressed our horses further. I ducked under a branch, and then pressed my hands firmly against Starfleet's neck, her mane whipping against my face. We had to outrun them. We had to ride like the wind.

On and on we rode. It was as if we were racing against time itself. Every time they came closer, we ran faster. At one point, one of the wraiths came between me and Arwen, and I gasped as I saw his hand reach for Frodo. I briefly imagined myself leaping off of my horse to tackle him and throw him off of his horse, or using my sword to decapitate him, but I couldn't take the risk. I couldn't risk failing Frodo, my friends, my family, and my kingdom after coming so close. Arwen, however, was not intimidated.

_"Run on Asfaloth!" _she cried.

When I saw that she was getting ahead of me, I realized I now had to ride Starfleet faster than ever. I leaned forward in the saddle, grit my teeth, and dug my heels into her sides, shouting, "Faster Starfleet! Faster!"

Soon, I was by her side again, but we did not slow down, even when we were darting through trees in order to get the wraiths off our trail. Without addressing my fears of doing such a maneuver, I followed Arwen's lead, and we managed to skirt past the trees, ducking underneath the branches to avoid being struck. After the trees, we went for a fallen trunk. Though I hadn't done much jumping with Starfleet, with a kick of my heels, we sailed over it along with Arwen and Asfaloth. But despite our efforts, the wraiths still followed us.

Before long, however, we made it to the ford, and my heart soared with relief. Rivendell was just beyond this river. We slowed our horses and cantered through the water. But once we were on the other side, Arwen stopped her horse and turned him around, causing me to do the same. I was about to ask her what was wrong, when I saw the Ringwraiths on the opposite shore. I worried that they would try to follow us again, then I realized that although they were trying desperately to urge their horses across, the horses fiercely refused. Were they simply afraid of the water? Or was it the influence of this Elven realm that they feared?

Suddenly, one of the wraiths looked Arwen in the face, and demanded in a sinister voice, "Give up the Halfling She-Elf!"

Arwen then unsheathed her sword, held it high, and with determination called back, "If you want him, come and claim him!"

Upon hearing her words, I was stirred by her courage. In my second confrontation with the Ringwraiths, I too revealed my sword, and, with fire in my voice, shouted, "Come if you dare!"

They responded differently than I expected. Instead of fleeing, as they rightly should have, all nine of them raised their swords, and urged their horses into the water. The horses obeyed, but we stood our ground. As they got closer, I pressed my lips together and tightly gripped the hilt of my sword, when I suddenly heard Arwen speaking an Elvish chant.

_"Waters of the Misty Mountains_

_listen to the great word;_

_flow waters of Loudwater_

_against the Ringwraiths!"_

_"Waters of the Misty Mountains_

_listen to the great word;_

_flow waters of Loudwater_

_against the Ringwraiths!"_

Once she had finished her chant, I heard a great roar of water around the mountains on the far right. My eyes widened as I saw an immense wave in the shape of a herd of galloping horses, headed toward the Ringwraiths. Though I felt Starfleet become nervous under me, I quickly took a handful of her mane and she immediately calmed down. I then watched as the giant wave overtook the wraiths. They cried out in terror and tried to ride their horses away from it, but before long, all of the wraiths and their horses were swept away and submerged under the mighty floodwaters. And soon after, just as quickly as it had come, it disappeared, and the river was once again calm.

Suddenly, I heard moans. I quickly sheathed my sword again, turned my head, and gasped as I saw Frodo about to keel over. Were we too late? I desperately hoped not; but fortunately, Arwen noticed as well. She quickly put away her sword, jumped off of her horse, and gently laid Frodo on the ground.

"Frodo, no!" she cried, looking as though she would weep, "Frodo don't give in! Not now."

When he didn't respond, Arwen sighed with sadness, and I watched as she hugged Frodo against herself, a single tear falling down her cheek.

I then, upon realizing how much had just occurred, decided that it was my turn to be strong. We had just outran the Ringwraiths – not a small feat. We had managed to escape their wrath, and had just witnessed their defeat with our own eyes. We could not give up now. We were so close to Rivendell; and no one was going to get Frodo there except us. We were his last hope…

I let a sigh escape my lips, allowing my own nerves to begin to calm, and then I said, "We can't stay here; Frodo needs us. We have to keep going."

Arwen then looked up at me, and then back at Frodo. I saw her face quickly turn from sadness to determination, and before long, she nodded.

"You are right. We must make haste."

Arwen gathered Frodo gently in her arms, put him back on her horse, and then jumped back into the saddle. Once the reins were gathered in her hands, she turned Asfaloth around and said, "Come, we need to hurry."

I nodded back, turned Starfleet around, and followed after her.

For the next few minutes, we cantered up a pathway that I noticed was slowly ascending, Arwen leading the way with me following behind. Soon, I began to hear the sound of rushing water. After traveling another few yards, we passed through a stone archway connecting two mountains, and I looked left toward the sound and saw a massive waterfall, along with the river which flowed beneath the mountain. And once I looked back, my heart soared with hope and relief as my eyes set upon for the first time, the Elven realm of Rivendell.

We rode on a curved pathway traveling up to the realm, and before long, we passed through another, smaller archway, and then rode into a courtyard. Once we had finally reached our destination, Arwen and I immediately dismounted. Arwen hastily took Frodo into her arms, and was questioned by one of the three Elf women standing nearby whom I guessed to be her maids.

"My lady," she asked, "have you found him?"

"Yes," Arwen replied, "But I must get to _Ada_. This Halfling has been stabbed by a Morgul blade."

Understandably, all three of them were visibly alarmed at those last words. But Arwen did not stop. She hurried up the staircase in front of us, and I was about to follow her, when I suddenly felt pain shoot through my back, and I began to feel faint. I immediately knew what this meant, and I instantly felt waves of disappointment at my body reminding me that I wasn't fully healed. However, I wasn't going to let that stop me.

"Arwen," I called when she reached the top of the stairs.

She turned around, and answered in a way that I didn't want to hear.

"No Aidan," she replied, "I'm afraid you can follow me no longer. You yourself need medical aid."

Though I still felt my usual stubbornness, I also realized that I was not going to get around this anymore, and I reluctantly nodded.

Arwen then turned to the three women and said, "Hithien, Erebeth, Fainiel, please see that he gets the best care."

"Yes my lady," one nodded.

I then watched as Arwen, carrying a limp Frodo in her arms, hurried down the hall and then turned, leaving my sight. Though I now knew that Frodo was going to get the help he desperately needed, I still couldn't help but feel a sting in my heart. I hoped greatly that he was going to be all right, and that the next time I saw him, he would be conscious and well.

I then turned toward the women.

"Come with us," one said.

I nodded and soon found myself walking between them through a separate hallway, looking back at where I once stood. I looked back at Starfleet, hoping she would be cared for in the stables, and I looked back at the other hallway, wishing that I could have been with Frodo the whole way.

Before long, I was in a room, in what I assumed to be the medical wing, sitting on an examining table, my cloak, gloves, and vest having all been removed. All three of the women were donned in white nurse robes, and on the left was a large tray holding bottles, some containing powders, liquids, or the two mixed together. I also saw that there were a few needles. I hoped that they were not for me. I only knew that no matter how much I could wish to hide it here, these women would discover my secret.

They soon began to look me over. I expected them to poke and prod, but their hands were gentle. First, they measured by breathing, followed by my pulse, after which they proceeded to measure my blood pressure. Then, one of them, Hithien, checked my temperature simply by feeling my forehead.

"You have a considerable fever," she concluded. I was not surprised that she had figured this out so quickly, since Elves have keen senses.

But just then, Erebeth looked at my side with a confused face.

"Why is the back of your shirt stained with blood?" she asked.

I could not lie. "I fell during a fight," I replied, "And, I…was injured."

She then stood back, and looked at Hithien and Fainiel. They both nodded, and she nodded back before turning back to me.

"Please, lift your shirt," she said.

I swallowed. I knew that this would be the moment in which I would be exposed, but I was in no mood to argue. I was too tired. I complied, prepared myself to face the inevitable embarrassment, and pulled my shirt up to my chest.

When Erebeth looked at my back, she gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

"What is it?" I asked, almost fearfully, "What's wrong?"

"Come stand in front of the mirror," she told me.

I jumped down from the table and stood in front of the long mirror that was on the wall to my left. My eyes widened at what they beheld in the reflection. An ugly, dark red scratch traveled across my back, beginning near my left hip and ending on the right side, just below the fabric that was covering me. I had never seen anything like it, and wondered if it was deep enough to form a scar. I had little time to contemplate it, however, because Hithien and Fainiel, upon seeing my wound, turned toward Erebeth, and all then began speaking in low whispers. I could not hear what they were saying, but I knew that they were probably discussing how they were going to treat me. Before long, they all nodded, and Hithien went over to the tray holding the bottles and needles.

I was then instructed to sit back on the table, and I watched as she opened a bottle containing a green liquid. I bit my lip as she opened one of the needles. She then poured the liquid in until the barrel was full, and walked over to me, holding the needle at the ready in her hand. I did not back away though.

"Hold still," she said, "This will prevent infection."

I nodded, and bent forward so she could get to the proper spot. I bit my lip even harder, closed my eyes, and winced slightly once I felt the needle's pinch in the middle of my back. In only a few seconds though, it was drawn back out, and when I looked up again, Fainiel stood in front of me holding a roll of bandages with white powder applied to them. I nodded at her, and kept my shirt lifted while she wrapped three layers of bandages around my torso. Once they were secured, I let my shirt down again.

"Thank you all for your help," I said once everything was done.

"Our pleasure," Erebeth nodded, "But, tell us, what is your name?"

Though I felt that they already knew, in a last effort to conceal my identity, I gave my male name. "Aidan."

"No, your real name," Fainiel said.

I immediately looked down and sighed. Just as I had thought, they'd figured it out. They knew I was female. There was no point in trying to hide who I really was, at least from them. I looked back up at them again.

"I am Aminta," I said in a proud, feminine voice, "Princess of Lore."

Hithien raised her eyebrows. "A princess?" she said. But then suddenly, she frowned. "If that is so, then what are you doing here, so far from home?"

"And why do you dress in boy's clothing?" Erebeth asked.

I looked away, feeling shy, and somewhat embarrassed. "It is a somewhat long story," I replied.

But I told them anyway. I explained to them how my father was invited to join the council to be held by Lord Elrond, but since he was well along in years, I decided to go in his place. I told them of my journey and how I had come to know Strider and the four hobbits. As for my dressing as a boy, I explained that I made the choice so as not to draw any unwanted attention to myself or to those around me. All the while, I began to feel at ease. It felt good to speak of my difficult expedition to an audience other than my horse.

"Which is what brings me to make this request," I said once I had said everything, "I would be very grateful if none of you told anyone who I really am. I plan to reveal myself at my own time."

They all then looked at one another, each with a questioning look on her face. After a short while, they all nodded, and then turned back to me.

"Very well," Hithien said, "If you do not want anything to be said, we will not say a word."

"But we will not lie outright," Erebeth added.

I nodded. "I understand."

Fainiel sighed. "Well, now that this is settled, we must get you to a proper room. You must have bed-rest, you look tired enough as you are."

I nodded again, and gave a small yawn, before I was helped down from the table. I then gathered my cloak, gloves, and vest, and soon, I was once again walking through the halls between the Elf women. When we had passed the courtyard in which Arwen and I had arrived, I could not help but look back at the way we had come. I was thinking of Frodo again. He was probably going to be in the medical wing for much longer than I was. I once again felt a sting in my heart, knowing that he had already suffered far more than I had since leaving home.

I suppose Fainiel noticed my silent sadness, for she put her hand on my shoulder and showed me a soft smile.

"Do not fear for your Hobbit friend," she said, "Master Elrond knows what he needs."

I briefly returned the smile and nodded my thanks before turning back around.

After traveling through many more hallways and making several turns, I was finally shown my own room. It was smaller than the one I had back at home, but it was perfect. The floor was made of marble, and the entire right wall gave a view of the whole realm, though, thankfully, there were curtains ready to be closed as well for privacy. On the left was a mirror with a small washbin sitting on the ivory table underneath, with a pitcher of water and folded towels beside it. There was a large chest to keep my clothes in. And in the back was my bed, with a golden canopy above it and blankets of the same color. It looked very inviting, and with good reason, as I was very tired.

I turned around and thanked the women for everything they had done.

They all nodded. "Let us know if you need anything," Hithien said.

They then turned and left me alone. After letting out another yawn, I closed the door and proceeded to put my cloak, gloves, and vest in the chest. I then walked over to my bed, pulled my boots off, and then climbed in. For a time, I stared up at the canopy, marveling at the fact that I had finally reached my destination after weeks of travel. I thought once more of Frodo, and inexplicably found myself confused at what I was feeling. How had I come to care so much for someone I had just met in such a short amount of time? What would he, and everyone else for that matter, say once I finally revealed my identity? I did not know the answers to either of these questions, but I decided I would try to answer them later. I let out one final yawn, closed my eyes, and then slowly drifted into the land of sleep.

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Reviews would be appreciated.


	6. Harboring Secrets

Here's Chapter 6! Thanks for reading and reviewing.

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**Lord of the Rings: Through a Princess's Eyes (Part 1)**

Chapter 6 – Harboring Secrets

Whether because of my own exhausted state, or that liquid that was injected into me, I slept much longer than I had intended. When I awoke, I saw that the sun was lower in the sky than I first remembered. Could I have slept for a whole day? I did not know. But I certainly felt refreshed. After sitting up and stretching, I climbed out of my bed and walked over to the washbin, where I poured water in, and washed and dried my face.

I then pulled my boots on, and then walked over to the windowed wall to finally get a good look at the realm of Rivendell. From what I had seen when I first arrived with Arwen, I could see that it was built on and beside a mountain. I pressed my hand against the glass and looked slowly around. I saw, and heard even from here, the tall waterfall flowing from near the top of one of the nearby mountains. The buildings themselves were built against each other, made of what appeared to be gold and ivory wood, with hallways connecting each one. The whole looked like a town of a house. I was impressed.

I then realized that Strider and the rest of the hobbits must have arrived here the day before, and most likely were deeply concerned not only for Frodo, but for me. I then walked over to the mirror, made sure that my disguise was intact, and decided to go out and look for them, to let them know that I was all right.

First I searched the hallways, and then the main courtyard. I began to wonder if they had even made it at all, when I finally saw Strider sitting on a stone bench in one of the smaller courtyards, dressed in finer clothing and reading a book.

"Strider," I called out to him. He immediately looked up, and gave me a slight smile.

"Aidan," he said, "I see you're awake." He then gestured to the bench beside the one he sat on, indicating that he wanted me to sit next to him.

"I assume you are well?"

I gave a slight smirk as I walked over to the seat and sat down. "I've been better," I sighed, "But I'm not dead yet."

He then chuckled, causing me to chuckle in return. But suddenly, I saw that his smile had left him.

"In all seriousness though, you should be grateful that you did not sustain any serious injuries."

"I am," I nodded.

He nodded back, and then returned his face to his book. But I was not finished. "When did you get here?" I asked.

Strider closed his book and returned my look. "We arrived yesterday afternoon," he explained, "Since the two of you were sleeping, I thought it wise not to disturb either you or Frodo."

My smile instantly dropped at the mention of Frodo's name. I looked toward the ground, my heart beginning to feel heavy again.

"It was my fault he was injured," I murmured.

"Pardon?" Strider immediately asked, his voice concerned.

"I tried to protect him," I replied, "But I only hurt myself in the process."

I then put my head in my hands before continuing, allowing knuckles to form once I remembered the secret that had been kept from me, and how frustrated, and betrayed, it was now making me feel. "And he never even told me that he carried…the weapon of the enemy."

I let go of the hair of my wig and looked up at Strider, who was now frowning. "In fact, no one ever told me, not even you," I said, anger rising in my voice, "I thought I could trust you."

"Aidan."

I looked away, my arms crossed, and a frown upon my face. Whether or not I felt justified in feeling betrayed, I cared not. It did not matter to me that there might have been justifiable circumstances to keep such an important secret from me. They had included me as a member of their company. I was not a threat to them. I had proven that. Even worse considering that first it was my own father, now it was my new friends. Who else, friend or family, kept such important secrets from me? Why treat me as if I was a half-wit, or that I did not have the emotional strength to handle such news? Who could I even trust in such confusing times as these? I hated it. Though, I began to hate myself when I remembered that I was keeping an important secret from them, too. _But why bother? _I then thought, _They deserve it for keeping me in the dark._

"Aidan, look at me," Strider suddenly said.

In response to his gruff voice, I did as he said, but I did not care to listen to what he had to say.

"Aidan, I understand your anger with me," he started, "However, do you honestly think that you would have believed me had I told you?"

I scoffed at him, and looked away again. "At least you would have been truthful, whatever I thought."

"True," Strider said, "but I also kept it secret for your safety. There is no other weapon like this. No one who can wield it without it corrupting them. It is not in any way a small matter that can be dealt with lightly."

I glanced at him only briefly. "But the hobbits knew about it, didn't they? And besides…how do you know so much of this?"

Strider then let out a long, drawn-out sigh, whether from weariness or not wanting to tell me the answer, I did not know. "I can see that this conversation is going to get us nowhere."

"Clearly," I agreed, "But you did not answer my final question."

Strider was about to answer, when, suddenly, we heard footsteps coming our way. We immediately looked up and saw Sam, Merry, and Pippin hastily walking toward us. They all hurried down the short flight of steps and then toward me, looking heavily relieved.

"Aidan, you're awake!" Pippin exclaimed.

"Are you all right?" Merry asked.

"I'm well enough," I replied, "You don't need to worry."

I then looked up at Sam, who gave me a warm smile followed by a chuckle. "I'm glad you're well Mr. Aidan."

And then, to my surprise, he embraced me in a hug, and that was when I learned how strong small people such as hobbits could be.

"What was that for?" I asked once he let me go.

"I have to admit, I didn't think I could trust you at first," he then said, "But since we first met, you've done a lot to help us. I'm sorry if I seemed cold toward you; from now on, you have my thanks, and my trust."

I was moved by Sam's words. I knew, ever since I had left home, that even if I did manage to convince anyone that I was a boy, I would (rightly so) draw suspicions. I did _not_ think that anyone would come forward and be so honest about them, let alone openly place their trust in me. I felt myself smile with gratefulness. However, I immediately remembered that despite what was just said, I was in fact deceiving them by allowing them to think I was male, which then made letting the words sink in all the more painful.

I then decided to look for a way to escape it, when I noticed the book Strider was reading. I quickly read the title, _History of Middle-Earth Vol. III_, and I wondered where Strider had gotten it, when I immediately realized that Rivendell must have a library.

I then turned around to the hobbits, and nodded. "I thank you all for concern," I said, "But if you don't mind, I'd like to be alone. Excuse me."

Before another word could be said, I walked past them, up the steps, and into the hallway, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, though I knew I had probably gotten someone to wonder.

For the next few minutes, I walked the hallways, trying to find the library, wherever it may have been. After many twists and turns, I finally came upon a large, two-leveled room with a stairway leading to the upper level. On both floors a tall, and finely polished, bookcase bordered the wall, filled with books of all kinds: small and big, thick and thin. On the far side of the room stood two desks, holding scrolls and books, as well as writing instruments such as quill pens and inkwells, even lit candles. There was also a small table, which I assumed was used for tea. Nearby were a few steps which led to a balcony. And near the desks was a sofa, made of what seemed to be ivory and woven gold. I smiled, knowing that I had at last found a place to retreat to, a place that reminded me of home. Granted, my home had a larger library than this, but remarkably, this one felt more comfortable. Reading was one of my favorite things to do on a rainy day, but the library always felt too large to be cozy.

I looked and noticed what appeared to be an empty spot on one of the shelves nearest me. I walked over and read the title of the book on the left, and then the one on right: _History of Middle-Earth Vol. I_ and _History of Middle-Earth Vol. II_. I took the first one off the shelf, made a mental note to put it back later, which I almost always forgot to do, and walked over to sit down on the nearest sofa, which immediately felt as comfortable as it looked.

Though the words were in Elvish, I translated as I read. I read about how Middle-Earth was created, through the Music of the Ainur, and about the creation of the two Lamps, which were destroyed by Morgoth, resulting in the creation of the two Trees. Though I had heard these stories several times growing up, I never tired of hearing them. However, while I enjoyed reading the stories that defined my childhood, I found that the things I was trying to escape were not going to leave me easily.

I had never been one to lie: not to my parents, my siblings, or anyone else. Why did it feel so easy now when I had not done it nearly at all in my entire life? Was it because I had found a good reason to do so, or because I had discovered a new talent? I did not know, and trying to get away from it proved not to be as easy as I thought it would be. I did not even know these people for a long time, so why did I feel so conflicted? I hated this feeling, and that I did not have an answer for it.

However, I did find solace in the book I was now holding. I continued to read more, about the creation of the Elves and their being discovered by the Vala Oromë, the creation of the Silmaril by the proud and arrogant Fëanor, and the destruction of the two Trees, followed by the creation of the sun and moon.

But throughout my reading, as so usually happens when I do so, I did not realize how much time had passed, until I suddenly heard a knock on the door near me. I slightly jumped in alarm, having been so invested in what I was reading; and I saw that the sun was beginning its descent toward the west, indicating that I had been here far longer than I had intended. But then I remembered the knock.

"Um, come in," I called.

I thought, at first, that it would be Strider, or even one of the hobbits. It was neither, but I was not prepared to see who walked in. In fact, one could say I was dumbstruck.

I saw a man, but a man I never thought I would see. He was tall, perhaps as tall as Strider, and held a staff in his right hand. The most predominant feature about him was that everything he wore was grey: his cloak, his tall hat, even his eyes and long tangled beard. Though I had never met him before, I immediately knew who he was. There was no mistaking him. It was my father's old teacher, Gandalf the Grey.

My eyes grew wide and my heart began to pound in nervousness. I immediately put aside the book in my hands, stood up from the sofa, and bowed with my face to the floor.

"Lord Gandalf, forgive me," I said in my most respectful voice, "I didn't know it was you."

He let out a droll chuckle. "No need to bow," he said in a grandfatherly voice, "All is well."

I slowly stood back up again, and looked at him face-to-face, noticing the smile on his face, and how warm his stone-grey eyes looked.

"Aidan of Lore," I introduced myself, "at your service."

"I know," Gandalf nodded.

I became confused. "Sir?"

"Well, I arrive with the aid of Gwaihir in the realm of _Imladris_, where I am greeted by old friends of mine," he said, "I am then not only told that one of them has managed to survive the stabbing of a Morgul blade, but that a strange peasant boy from a previously isolated realm has joined them only recently."

I nodded. "You are correct, sir."

"I am not finished," Gandalf suddenly said.

Before I could say anything, he continued. "Yet when I go to investigate this claim, I meet not a mere peasant boy, but possibly even a relative of my old student. Am I correct in this regard?"

At this point, I had lost my breath. I knew that since Gandalf was a wizard, he would be more difficult to convince. I did not think he would figure me out this quickly. What I did know was that I could not lie.

"You are, sir," I nodded, "But, how did you know?"

"Oh, I never forget a face," he replied, "I'd know Kyros' likeness anywhere. You favor him very much."

The smile on his face made it impossible for me not to return it, if slightly, but I knew that the whole truth, not just a portion of it, had to be revealed.

"I am his youngest, sir," I said, "His youngest daughter, Aminta, in fact."

"Is that so?" he asked, though there seemed to be no surprise in his voice at all, "I thought there was more to you than what I was seeing."

"I know what you're going to ask though," I said.

"And what is that?"

"Why am I dressing this way," I replied, "And why am I assuming a false identity."

He shrugged his shoulders slightly. "I assume you have reasons?"

"Well, of course I do," I admitted.

"And I assume they are good reasons?"

I hesitated for a moment before replying, "One could say they are."

"Really? If you don't mind then, why don't you tell me these reasons?"

I turned around to face Gandalf and opened my mouth to refuse, but then my eyes met with his own, and, before I knew it, I began to search his face. And once I did, I saw no condemnation or judgment, rather concern and interest. I had not really expected to see such a look in a powerful wizard such as him. Not only that, but although he looked nothing like him, he reminded me of my father, with the same kindness and concern that often donned his face. I even began to wonder if Father had learned such things from him. It was inevitable. Before long, I changed my mind, and I decided to tell him my story.

I told him in short, though keeping important information in, about my father receiving an invitation to join Lord Elrond's council, and how he kept it secret from the rest of us. I could not let him face possible dangers at his age, so, without consulting him, I left in his place. Further, I explained how I had met Strider and the hobbits, how we barely managed to fight off the Ringwraiths, and how I helped get Frodo to Rivendell before his wound could claim him.

"Interesting," Gandalf suddenly said, "How is your father faring otherwise?"

Though I was somewhat caught off-guard by Gandalf's one-word reaction, I still felt obliged to answer his question, since he had not seen Father in years.

"He is doing well," I replied, "He is healthy, his reign is steady, and he has even passed on what he has learned to me and my siblings."

"Wonderful," Gandalf smiled, "But you still have not explained to me what persuades you to dress as a peasant boy."

I bit my lip, as I had hoped he would not go back to that. "I thought it best not to let anyone know who I am," I said, "at least for now. I may be a princess, but who is honestly going to take the cause of a young princess seriously?"

To my surprise, Gandalf chuckled, and then laughed softly. I was once again confused.

"With a bearing like that," he said, "you remind me of your father even more."

I did not know whether to take that as a compliment, or an offense; but before I could ask, he elaborated.

"Kyros was the same way when I first met him. Although he had different issues to face, he faced them in a very similar way that you face yours. He was very unsettled about becoming the next king of Lore, convinced that he was not smart enough and did not know a thing about politics. But I knew that he had more to offer than he was willing to give himself credit for, and I was right."

I almost didn't believe his words, since I did not know my father to be unsettled about anything. But I also had to remind myself that this was the wizard who taught Father in the years before he came of age, years before I even came into existence to know Father. Either way, I knew what Gandalf was going to say. So I said it for him.

"You believe I have more to offer than I think too then?" I asked.

Contrary to what I had expected, Gandalf's smile did not fade at my question. In fact, his smile seemed to become slightly bigger.

"I cannot force my beliefs on you, but I can help you to shape yours," he replied.

I was now more confused than ever. And it seemed he knew.

"Yes, I do believe you have more to offer than you allow yourself to think," Gandalf continued, "However, if you yourself do not believe this, then how will you be able to help your kingdom, your family, and Middle-Earth?"

Not wanting to face his words, and not knowing what to say, I turned around, my arms stubbornly crossed.

"What can I offer of significance to my kingdom, let alone Middle-Earth?" I asked.

"Not all know immediately," Gandalf replied, "But there is no such thing as a wasted life. Every life makes a difference, whether big, or small."

"If that is even so," I said, "then I wish I knew what kind of difference I could make."

"You will know, eventually, if you are willing to take chances, and esteem yourself."

"But how can I esteem myself when I've probably caused my family such worry?" I asked.

"Life is not without pain, or regret," Gandalf, now frowning, said, "What is important is how we choose to respond to it."

I then decided that I wanted to change the subject. So I turned to Gandalf and asked, "Are you going to tell anyone?"

Gandalf responded first with a sigh, and then replied, "Perhaps not; but only if you promise to eventually reveal yourself."

Before I could say another word, I heard the sound of Gandalf's cloak sliding on the floor, and I turned around to see him walk away from me and toward the door. I opened my mouth again to speak, but Gandalf opened the door through which he had entered, and left me alone in the library. I was left alone to wonder why he had left. Did he have something he needed to attend to? Or did he simply leave me alone so I could contemplate his words without him being present?

Whatever the reason, I did begin to think over what he had just said to me. I admired him for trying to lift my spirits, but did he really think that I, a princess of an isolated kingdom, could make any important difference? I had to at least consider his opinion, since he was a wizard, and a powerful one at that. Still, I could not escape the shadow of doubt that had plagued me ever since I left about a month ago.

The next two days passed terribly slow. Most of my following forty-eight hours were spent trying to get away from my near constant worry for Frodo. When I went to see him for the first time in the medical wing, I was relieved that he looked healthier than before, but my heart felt like stone seeing that he still retained some of the effects of his wound. As he lay motionless in his bed, in changed clothes and with a large bandage across his chest and wounded shoulder, he was still pale, and his eyes, though closed in unconsciousness, looked sunken in. I wondered if he would ever awaken, and I silently implored him to wake soon. Though I knew in my heart that he could not hear me.

Sam and I took turns sitting next to him. And every time I saw how concerned Sam was for his friend, my heart went soft. He reminded me of my brother Bryn: they did not look strong on the outside, but it was clear that they were on the inside. I could tell that he wanted Frodo to get well quickly almost as much as I did.

But perhaps the strangest times for me were the times that I sat with Frodo. It was just me and him in the room, though neither of us could communicate to each other, which I quickly resented. I began feeling that same emotion that I felt just days earlier when Frodo's chances of survival were grim. Although I was now assured that he was going to get well, I could not get rid of that strange, nameless feeling that I soon realized I felt whenever I was near him. I was most definitely concerned for him, but that didn't seem to describe that emotion thoroughly enough.

Whatever it was that I was feeling, I didn't know exactly what it was. However, I also somewhat liked it. I had never felt like this for someone before; yet, it was comforting, and kept me from losing myself in worry. But I still silently urged Frodo to awaken as soon as possible, to let me know for certain that he was all right.

On the morning of the Twenty-Fourth, I was approached by Gandalf, and was invited by him to come and sit by Frodo with him, for he had the feeling that he was about to awaken. Without hesitation, I agreed. While Gandalf sat by Frodo's bed – and smoked a pipe in the medical wing! – I took a seat in a chair near the door. And for the next hour, as the sun rose and I became more agitated, I eagerly watched for any motion from Frodo, until, at last, my heart elated at the sight of him slowly moving his head.

"Where am I?" he asked in a soft voice, his eyes still closed.

"You are in the house of Elrond," Gandalf replied, "And it is ten o'clock in the morning, on October the Twenty-Fourth if you want to know."

Frodo then turned his head to the right, and, after four days, he finally opened his eyes, sending me into overjoyed relief.

"Gandalf."

"Yes, I am here," Gandalf assured him, "And you're lucky to be here too. A few more hours and you would have been beyond our aid. But you have some strength in you, my dear hobbit."

Frodo then sat up, wincing at the wound on his shoulder. And then, his eyes met mine.

"Aidan."

I gave him a soft smile and nodded, though inside, I felt butterflies begin to fill my stomach.

"How are you faring?" he asked.

At first, I was surprised that he had asked me such, when his condition had been much worse than mine. But then, I remembered to reply, deciding not to tell how I had been wounded, lest I upset him.

"I'm well Frodo," I replied, "No need to worry."

Frodo returned my nod, and then turned to Gandalf again.

"Yes, we have met," Gandalf said.

"What happened Gandalf?" Frodo then asked, "Why didn't you meet us?"

Gandalf's smile left, and he did not reply immediately. It looked as though he was trying carefully to choose his words.

"Oh, I'm sorry Frodo," he then said, "I was delayed."

It was then that I noticed how truly troubled Gandalf looked. It seemed as if he was recalling an event that he favored not to recall. What it was, I had no way of knowing, but my curiosity remained.

After a few, rather haunting, moments of silence, Frodo asked, "Gandalf? What is it?"

Suddenly, Gandalf's smile returned to his face, and he replied, "Nothing, Frodo."

"Frodo?" a different voice spoke. I recognized it as Sam's.

"Frodo!"

I then watched as Sam rushed into the room, and took up Frodo's hand, relief emanating from his face.

"Sam!" Frodo laughed.

"Bless you you're awake!"

"Sam and Aidan have hardly left your side," Gandalf chuckled.

"We were that worried about you, weren't we Mr. Gandalf?" said Sam.

"By the skills of Lord Elrond, you're beginning to mend," Gandalf said.

It was at that moment that I saw the Lord of Rivendell for the first time. He came through the open doorway. He was tall, and wore a light grey doctor's cloak. His dark hair fell to the middle of his back, the bangs were braided. His slightly triangular face showed eyes that were fierce but gentle. He came over to Frodo's bedside and, smiling, said, "Welcome to Rivendell, Frodo Baggins."

Later, Frodo was finally out of bed, walking through the halls of Rivendell, Sam and I following behind. When we reached one of the gardens, I smiled as I watched Frodo happily reunite with his cousins. But then, when I looked where Frodo then did, I saw what I knew to be a hobbit, sitting on one of the stone benches, but one I had never seen until now. He looked much older than the other four, his hair nearly white, and a blue cloak was draped over his shoulders. In his hands, he held a large red book, which he was reading. But then he closed it and looked up at Frodo, who immediately ran over to him.

"Bilbo!" Frodo cried.

The hobbit, Bilbo, stood up, leaning on his staff, but as happy as Frodo looked.

"Hello Frodo, my lad!" he laughed.

"Bilbo!"

Frodo and Bilbo instantly embraced. It then occurred to me that the two were relatives, and dear ones at that.

"Oh how great it is to see you again!" Frodo exclaimed.

"And how great it is to finally see you well!" Bilbo added.

Frodo nodded, and his smile slightly faded. "I wouldn't have made it though, if it were not for Lord Elrond's daughter, and this new friend of mine."

He and Bilbo then looked at me, and my eyes widened slightly. Did Frodo want to introduce me to his relative? I hesitated at first, as I am often shy about meeting new people. Still, I assumed that was what Frodo wanted, and I was never one to be intentionally rude. So I nodded, and walked over to him and the older hobbit.

"Aidan," Frodo said, "This is my uncle, Bilbo. Bilbo, my new friend, Aidan of Lore."

"Good day, sir," I said, extending my hand in greeting. Bilbo immediately shook it.

"And to you," he smiled, "Interesting that you are from Lore. I'd always known it to be an isolated realm."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "You know of Lore?"

"I have an entire map of Middle-Earth," Bilbo replied.

Frodo must have noticed my confusion, because he spoke up. "You should hear of the journeys Bilbo has been on, and see the book he's written," he said, gesturing toward the large red book that Bilbo had been reading, "He's raised me on several great stories of Middle-Earth too, in fact."

I raised my eyebrows again, this time in impression. "Then I'll be happy to hear them some time," I said, "I'm sure they're fascinating as the one telling them."

Bilbo let out a hardy laugh. "I like you Mr. Aidan."

His smile was so charming, I could not help but return it. "And I like you in return."

But then I noticed that I was probably getting in Frodo's way. "Forgive me," I said, "I should let you get back to your reunion."

"Think nothing of it," Bilbo suddenly said, "It was a pleasure to meet you, and you have my thanks for helping my nephew."

I smiled again and nodded. "It was good to meet you too, sir. And Frodo is a good friend, he's worth any help."

We then parted ways, and I headed back through the halls. Before long, I decided to go find the stables and visit my beloved Starfleet. Though it took me a while to find them, once I was there, I couldn't have been happier to be finally reunited with my beautiful horse, relieved to see that she was being well cared for. I spent the next hour speaking softly to her, stroking her neck, and scratching and kissing her muzzle. I told her how proud I was to have a horse such as her, and how I happy I was that she was there when I needed her most. I even visited Arwen's horse, Asfaloth.

After an hour had passed, I made sure that Starfleet had everything she needed, and I left her in her stall. I walked through the courtyard and up the stairs, and thought to go and find the library again. However, my search did not prove to be any easier than before, and at one point, I came across Sam, who seemed to be packing his things.

_Odd_, I thought, _We are going to be here for at least several days, if not weeks._

But I decided not to bother him. I continued on my way, not even greeting him, and proceeded down the stairs a few yards away from him. But then, once I got down the last step, I heard a voice ask, "Packed already?"

Before I knew it, my heart instantly leaped in my chest, for I immediately knew that voice to be Frodo's, and I turned around. Though I could not see them from here, I listened as he and Sam carried on in their conversation.

"No harm in being prepared," Sam replied.

"I thought you wanted to see the Elves, Sam."

"I do!"

"More than anything."

"I did! It's just…we did what Gandalf wanted didn't we? We got the ring this far to Rivendell and then I thought, seein' as how you're on the mend, we'd be off soon. Off home."

Frodo didn't reply immediately, and I held my breath until he finally did.

"You're right Sam. We did what we set out to do … The ring will be safe in Rivendell … I am ready to go home."

I then listened as I heard them walk away; and while I did wonder how Frodo had come by the ring, and how he and the others knew Gandalf, it was only when he and Sam left that I realized how much my heartbeat quickened every time I heard Frodo speak. Was I feeling that unknown emotion again? It certainly felt like it; but now it was even stronger than before. What was it that I was feeling? The question repeated itself over and over, but I never came up with an answer. Even so, it did, like before, seem rather nice and elating to feel. I then did the only thing I could to emote whatever it was that I was feeling: I sighed happily.

"What is this?" a voice then spoke behind me.

I immediately turned around in surprise, and my eyes widened slightly when I saw an Elf-woman, and not just any, standing before me.

"Lady Arwen!" I exclaimed in my male voice, "Forgive me, I didn't know you were there."

"There is no need to apologize," she replied, "However, I would like an answer to my question."

I had not seen Arwen since we had arrived in Rivendell together. She was now wearing a simple but elegant red dress, her hair was down, and she held a small book in her hands. She reminded me somewhat of my eldest sister, Junia. They looked roughly the same age, though I knew Arwen to likely be far older. She was also raising her eyebrows at me, and I knew why, that she had heard me sigh just now. Still, I tried to avoid her question with one of my own.

"What are you talking about?"

"I see someone dressed as a man in front of me," she said, "and yet I hear a feminine sigh."

For a few short moments, silence hovered over us.

"It seems that there is more to you than I already know," she said, "is there not?"

I knew there was no point in avoiding her suspicions now, for she had caught me in the act. I stood straight and tall.

"There is," I agreed, "I am Aminta, princess of the realm of Lore."

Arwen raised her eyebrows. "Intriguing. Most from that realm do not travel as far away as here. May I ask what brings you to _Imladris_, and to disguise yourself?"

I pressed my lips together, in frustration and in fatigue at having to tell my story for the third time since coming here. "It would take me a good while to explain. But I will say this: When I heard of the invitation that my father received from yours, I went in his stead. As for my disguise, I thought it would be safer, considering that…the Dark Lord…has once again grabbed the reins of power."

"But it seems to me that you are bothered by something," Arwen suddenly said, "If I am correct, and if it is not a problem, might I ask what it is?"

Though I knew Elves to have heightened senses, I was still somewhat alarmed at Arwen's remarkably accurate perception. I hesitated at first to tell her what I was feeling, but when I saw that she genuinely cared, I decided to tell her after all.

I turned around so I could speak as if by myself, as if I had the ability to bear the emotional weight of what I was about to say.

"You are right," I admitted, "I am troubled. However, I don't know why. It's not exactly a comfort, though, nor is it exactly a burden."

"What is?"

I sighed, this time in displeasure. "Ever since Frodo was wounded on Amon Sûl – and perhaps, even before then – I have felt so…strange…whenever I am around him. Yet, I do not really know what it is."

Silence.

"It may be helpful for you to know," Arwen said, "that I too feel that way about someone."

I turned back around, not swiftly, nor slowly.

"Can you tell me what it is?" I asked.

Arwen smiled. "If I did, I would ruin a wonderful thinking process."

I felt my heart begin to sink. "Why do you mock my inner state?" I asked, irritated with her for not giving me what I wanted.

"On the contrary," she replied, "I think it most extraordinary."

Not knowing what to say in response, I sighed again, turned back toward the stairs, and hung my head in disappointment.

"I only wish that there were some way for me to speak to him as myself. But I cannot reveal my secret either. It's much too early."

Silence then gripped its hold on me. Though I hadn't really intended to say those last few words, they simply slipped out. I didn't even know how that idea came to mind. It was almost as if it had come as naturally as breathing. But could I really even speak to Frodo now that I felt so confused when simply thinking of him? And how would such a scene even be possible?

Then, suddenly, as if she could read my mind, Arwen said, "I think I may have a solution."

I once again turned around, more swiftly this time, my eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Do you?"

Arwen smiled again, but bigger than before. "Come with me."

Soon, I was following Arwen hastily through the hallways, my heartbeat quickening with every step at what she had thought up. But before I could get too impatient, we finally arrived in what I assumed to be Arwen's bedchamber. It was somewhat bigger than mine here, but it looked much to be the same, except for a writing desk near the door, and a chest larger than the one I have beside it.

Arwen immediately closed the door, and pulled the curtains of the windowed wall closed, before proceeding to the chest.

_"Do you speak Elvish?"_ she asked as she knelt down in front of it and removed a key from underneath.

_"Yes, I do,"_ I nodded, joining her in front of the chest.

_"Good, then no one shall be able to understand us."_

Arwen then unlocked the lid with the key, and lifted it, which caused an unexpected cloud of dust to come up. I coughed a few times and waved it out of my way, and soon my eyes beheld white, ivory fabric. When the dust was cleared, Arwen gently took the fabric and unfolded it to reveal a dress that did not have a hint of wear on it, despite all of the dust inside.

It looked to be about my size, with long sleeves covering the hands and shorter sleeves covering them. The neckline was bordered with what I assumed to be dozens, if not hundreds, of small jewels which refracted whatever light touched them, diamonds by the look of them. And around the waist was a girdle that seemed to be made of woven silver.

_"What a beautiful dress,"_ I said.

_"Thank you," _Arwen smiled, _"It was mine. I used to wear it when I was your age. Since it was my favorite, I stored it in here for safe keeping."_

I smiled in return, but then out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw a hint of sparkling. I looked back into the chest, and my eyes widened in amazement when I beheld a fabric even more beautiful than the first. I could tell that it was transparent, and even had what seemed to be a subtle glow to it. I also saw what looked like to be a small silver tiara on one end.

_"What is this?"_ I asked.

_"A veil."_

Arwen then took it, more gently than she did the dress, and unraveled it to reveal what looked to be a waterfall of shimmering material. I had never seen such a beautiful adornment. But even so, I became slightly confused.

_"Forgive me, but, what do this dress and veil have to do with your solution?"_

_"This is not an ordinary veil, Aminta," _Arwen replied, _"At night, when the moon is out, this veil catches its light, and completely hides the face of its wearer. My father's council is to be held tomorrow, so tonight will most likely be the best time for you to meet with Frodo."_

At first, my eyebrows raised at the mention of Lord Elrond's council. I had known since I'd left that it would be held during this month, but I did not think it would be held so soon after I had arrived. But then my eyes began to wonder at the last few words Arwen had said. Meeting Frodo in the dark of night? Was that to be her solution for me?

_"And you're giving me this dress, and veil, to keep Frodo from recognizing me?"_ I asked.

_"As long as the moon is out, the veil will keep your face hidden,"_ Arwen replied, _"__You can meet him before dawn tomorrow in one of the smaller courtyards near the front archway."_

I then descended into thought about the idea. It did seem rather legitimate. And with the right planning and the right timing, it could possibly be done well. However, I also realized that if I did this, I would be deceiving Frodo even more than I was now. Then again, I would never have to reveal who I was, though I would need a clever story. I soon found myself having to choose between caution or action. If I did not meet with Frodo in this way, then I would not have to mislead him further. But if I did, I would be able to have a word with Frodo as myself, to let him know how much I cared about him and his wellbeing.

After carefully thinking it over for a few more minutes, I then realized I had made a decision, and turned to Arwen.

_"I accept your solution,"_ I said, _"But I have to let Frodo know … Perhaps I can write him a letter."_

_"Of course,"_ Arwen nodded, _"You may use my desk if you wish."_

_"Thank you."_

I then took the seat in front of Arwen's rather finely polished desk. Fortunately, there were already some sheets of paper and a quill pen and inkwell. I dipped the pen in the into the ink, but as I set my hand against the paper, I felt my fingers begin to tremble. I quickly settled them before I dropped the pen, but I could not escape what had just happened. Was I really going to trick Frodo simply because I desired to have a few moments with him? Did I even know what to say to him on a piece of parchment?

As I pondered these two questions, Arwen did not bother or hasten me, for which I was grateful. I was not, however, grateful for the strong emotions that these questions were posing. I then did something that I do not usually do: I made the uneasy choice to push them aside, and thought thoroughly of what to say before setting it down in writing.

_Frodo Baggins,_

_You may not know me, but I know of you. For a while now, I have seen you on your journey. I have come to admire your bravery and willingness to sacrifice for others. I am also more than relieved that you have survived a wound others would have more quickly succumbed to, when you yourself are bearing a great burden. Yes, I know what it is, but rest assured, I mean you no harm. All I want is to finally meet you face-to-face. I will waiting for you in the early hours of tomorrow morning in one of the courtyards near the front entrance. I only wish to speak to you not only as an ally, but as the friend I hope you will allow me to be._

_Anonymous_

When I'd finished writing the letter, I folded it, and then gave it to Arwen, who then picked up her seal, and pressed it firmly in place.

_"I will see to it that Frodo gets this letter,"_ she said.

_"Thank you,"_ I nodded. But then, I frowned as the shadow of conviction gained presence over me.

_"Arwen?"_

She turned around.

_"You would not have presented me with this type of solution if it were selfish, or immoral, would you?"_ I asked.

She only looked at me, with not a frown or a smile, before she finally replied, _"Of course not, Aminta. Why ever would you think I would do that?"_

I felt myself begin to blush in embarrassment at being caught in a foolish moment.

_"I am only hoping that I'm not…harming Frodo by doing this."_

Arwen then gave me a soft, sisterly smile. _"How could letting him know that you care harm him, especially considering your kindness and warm heart, toward him and toward others?"_

Whether because of her nature, or her choice of words, I instantly felt touched. I returned the smile to show my thanks. And while the presence of conviction and guilt did not completely vanish, I felt much better knowing that I had a friend who could share with my feelings, whatever they may have been. Still, I was not completely convinced that this plan would work, and could only hope that not a single false move, no matter how small, would be made and cause it to fail.

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Reviews would be appreciated.


	7. Meeting Under the Moonlight

Here's Chapter 7! Thanks for reading and reviewing.

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**Lord of the Rings: Through a Princess's Eyes (Part 1)**

Chapter 7 – Meeting Under the Moonlight

I waited anxiously for Arwen's return. I wondered what Frodo would think once he read the letter, whether or not he would show up, and whether or not he would know that it was me behind the veil I was going to wear. Like before, I made the less than easy decision to push them aside, and tried to concentrate on how Arwen and I were going to make this work. I was more than relieved when she finally returned, and together, we crafted a plan: After midnight, she would escort me back to her bedchamber and help me dress. She then would show me the courtyard, after which I would be left alone to wait for Frodo. The whole time, I tried very hard not to seem nervous, though I had reason to believe that Arwen would have figured it out nonetheless.

Once we had everything planned, we parted ways, and I decided to try and live the day like I did the day before I left home: like it was any other day. However, I did not want to encounter Frodo, let alone speak to him, not because of any ill will of course, but because I did not want to risk doing anything that would give me away. I was so nervous about what might happen that night that I feared even expressing myself around him. Fortunately, though, I did not see him for the rest of the day. In fact, I withdrew to my room and ended up spending hours reciting what I would say once we met, casting a sentence or two off to the side if I did not like it or if it revealed too much, and repeating a sentence over and over to memorize if I did like it.

Then the hour began to grow late. Before the sun had completely set past the horizon, I decided that it would be best to get some sleep, because I was going to meet Frodo in the very early morning, and I thus had to have the benefit of being rested. So I took off my boots. But instead of immediately going to bed, I inexplicably found myself drawn to look outside the windowed wall of my room, like I had when I first came here. I once touched my fingertips against the glass, warmed from the sun, and looked out one more time at the Elven realm before I would exchange my comfort for sweet unconsciousness, followed by more nervousness.

Not only was I going to speak to Frodo alone – and without my disguise for the first time, but the council of Lord Elrond was going to be held the very same day. I did not know which event to be more nervous about. I had to speak with Frodo without giving myself away, and I was also going to have to represent my realm in place of my father – to convince everyone that we were worthy of their time and attention. My heart began to race again. How was I going to do both on the same day? I searched my mind for information, when I remembered the female rulers of my kingdom. They were once my age, were they not? What would they have done had they been in my position? I thought through possibility after possibility, but I eventually came to the bitter conclusion that though my kingdom had female monarchs in the past, I was not sure if they, or any of the male rulers for that matter, had ever faced challenges as daunting as the ones I was facing – and I was not even a monarch.

In the end, however, I realized that allowing my heart to race and my nerves to tease at and twist my emotions would get me nowhere. Though I could not remember a time learning how one of my people went before an Elven lord (with the exception of our chieftain and first king), I did remember learning that when faced with intimidating political and personal challenges, most did not worry over them, they calmed their hearts and minds and took action. Though a princess, I had to be willing to do the same. After all, I was the only person here from the realm of Lore; if I could not represent my people to this most important of councils – even if I had to do so in disguise – no one else would. It would be now or never.

But now, I had to go away from the window and toward my bed. I took one last look at the evening landscape, the moon in the sky rising as the sun was setting, a rather poignant reminder of Tilion's desire to be close to Arien, before turning around and walking to my bed. I pulled off my boots, climbed into the covers, settled into the most comfortable spot, and closed my eyes.

When I opened them again, I was greeted by the night's black sky, stars sprinkled like diamonds all across it. But when I saw that the moon had risen far past the horizon than when I'd last seen it, my eyes instantly widened. Now that I was alert and awake, I immediately tossed aside the covers. Ignoring my boots, I hurried over to the washbin and mirror, deciding to save Arwen some time by quickly washing my face.

After splashing on water and drying it with a towel, I quickly, but quietly, left my room, and hastily walked down the halls, looking for Arwen. Though trying to be as quiet as possible, I became startled whenever I heard the slightest of noises, knowing that I could be discovered at any moment. When I finally ran into someone, my heart instantly sank, thinking I had finally been detected. But when I saw that it was Arwen, my heart lifted again, causing me to sigh in relief.

"I hope you have had a good rest," she smiled, "Come now, we must make haste."

I nodded, and followed her down the halls, trying to keep my nerves from tightening, until we finally reached her room, where the dress and veil were laid out on her bed, waiting for me.

As she did earlier, Arwen closed the door and drew the curtains.

"Are you ready?" she asked once she turned around.

"Yes," I nodded, "Though, I would prefer it for you not to look at me while I am changing." While I was somewhat comfortable changing in front of my mother and sisters, I was not so with the idea of changing in front of strangers, even if they were also female.

"Of course," Arwen said before turning her back to me.

As I proceeded to change out of my male clothes (including that ridiculous fabric covering my chest!) and into the dress, while I knew that my face would be behind a veil the whole time I met with Frodo, I couldn't help but envy Arwen her beauty. Tonight, she wore a pristine white nightgown. But it wasn't really her clothes that made me admire her. Whether or not she too had slept since we'd last met, I did not know, for not only did her hair show no signs of slumber, neither did her face. She still looked beautiful,  
as all Elves naturally are, and I wondered if I could ever compare, let alone attain that sort of beauty for myself. Though I was taught growing up that beauty on the inside was more important than on the outside, it did not prevent me from wishing her great beauty for myself.

"I am ready," I said once I had put on the dress, and had taken off my blond wig, allowing my brown hair to fall around my shoulders. I was surprised with how well the dress fit me, like a glove naturally fitting the perfect hand. I wondered if Arwen would think the same.

She immediately raised her eyebrows and smiled. "You look lovely," she said, leaving me to wonder if she had referred to the addition of the dress, or my natural beauty.

She then motioned for me to sit on her bed, which I did. She took a hairbrush and began gently brushing my hair, but before long she began braiding my left bangs.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"This is a traditional hairstyle for Elf women," she explained. When she was done with both sides, she gave me a small mirror, and my eyes widened at how well she had done my hair, and at my familiar, feminine face.

However, what I saw also caused my heart to feel heavy, and I let the mirror rest in my lap while I let out a fatigued sigh.

Arwen sat beside me.

"What ails you Aminta?" she asked.

I let out another, shorter sigh, and slowly turned to her, a frown across my face.

"I cannot do this Arwen," I admitted, "I will never be able to speak to Frodo in this way. I am too nervous whenever I am around him, and how can I masquerade myself like this when I am already doing so, and when I am going to attend Lord Elrond's council? … I am so selfish for doing this."

"Aminta, there is nothing selfish about wanting to be with those you care about. And if you intend to be honest with yourself, what reason have you to feel so uneasy when around Frodo? Did you not assist me when we rode him to safety, willing to risk your life in the process? … Aminta, not all may make sense now, but when you truly realize who you are, you will be able to confront whatever trials cross your path."

No other words could have been more perfect for my situation than the ones she chose. I did not know how to respond to it, and thus we ended up sitting there in silence for a long time, not saying a word, until Arwen spoke up again.

"If you like, you may keep this dress."

I turned sharply toward her, my eyebrows raised in surprise.

"But is this dress not yours?" I asked, "Why would you give it to me?"

"I have many reasons," Arwen replied, "I have outgrown it, and it has been in that chest for much too long. You may not realize it, but your time here has done me good Aminta. The least I can do is give you a token of my gratitude. After all, whatever is decided at my father's council, you may never know when you might need it again."

Again, I did not know what to say. I tried to come up with a reasonable response, until I finally decided that I could not simply deny the request of someone I had become good friends with. But I couldn't help but wonder what she meant about me needing the dress again. Did she think that I would soon reveal myself and thus need something to wear? Perhaps. Though I had no intention to reveal myself any time soon, I did remember that I had not brought any feminine clothes.

"Very well," I nodded.

She returned the nod and stood up again, causing me to do the same. She looked me over one more time and smiled, letting me know that she approved of what she saw.

"Are you ready for the veil?" she asked.

I looked at it as it lay across her bed, and smiled as I saw that it was even more beautiful than before, like a subtle and weightless mist, before turning back to Arwen and nodded again.

"I am ready."

Arwen then took the veil as gently as she could and motioned for me to turn around. I did so, and held my breath as she let the silver tiara rest on my head, and felt the pristine material as it rested as lightly as a moth against my neck, shoulders, and back.

"I do have one concern though."

"Yes?"

"Will I be able to see?"

Arwen chuckled. "Of course. But remember, the veil will only work while the moon is out. If you see the sun on the horizon, you must leave as quickly as you can."

I frowned when I remembered that "special" feature of the veil, but I heeded the warning and nodded. "Yes."

She smiled, and proceeded to look me over, starting from my head, and ending at my feet. "Oh dear," she then said.

"What is it?"

"You need slippers."

Slippers? Were they that necessary? "I'll go barefoot," I insisted.

"No," she refused, "you must have slippers."

Arwen then walked over to her chest and took the key out from underneath. After unlocking the lid and opening it, she began searching through it until she pulled out a pair of pristinely white slippers. My eyes widened when I saw the three diamonds that adorned the center of each of them.

"These should do," Arwen said.

"Oh no, Arwen," I shook my head, "I couldn't possibly. They look far too delicate."

"You are not going up a mountain Aminta," Arwen said, "It will only be for now. When you are finished meeting with Frodo, you can return these and the veil to my room and retrieve your other clothes. I only ask that you be gentle with them all, the veil especially."

"Oh, of course," I said. I couldn't imagine handling them any other way.

Arwen laid the slippers at my feet, and I delicately put my feet into them, first my left foot and then my right. I moved my toes around inside and then walked a few steps to see how they would fit. I was, admittedly, less than pleased with the result.

"They are slightly larger than my feet," I said.

"Shall I find you another pair?" Arwen asked.

I thought quickly, but soon shook my head. "No, these will do for tonight."

"As you wish, then," Arwen nodded before turning around. I then watched as she opened one of the curtains and peered out the window. I even heard a small sigh escape her lips. Curiosity aroused me and I walked over to her side, opening the other curtain to see.

"What are you looking at?" I asked.

"Someone whom I plan to meet with tonight," she replied, her voice softer than clouds, and the expression on her face like that of one who is entranced.

I searched the halls and buildings of Rivendell to see who she spoke of, when my eyes caught a lone figure in a small, oval-shaped room, sitting next to what seemed to be a large statue, and reading a book. Though I did not have a very clear view from here, I could tell that it was very likely Strider. Was he the one Arwen spoke of? When I had seen the two speaking intimately with each other back in the forest, I knew them to be close friends, if not more so. More intriguingly, could she, an Elf maiden, be in love with him, a mortal man?

Though I knew it to not be my place to make such speculations, I smiled and turned to Arwen.

"Then I wish you the best of luck," I said.

And then, in an act of sincere gratitude, I embraced her as I would one of my sisters. "Thank you Arwen."

Soon, she returned my embrace. "You are very welcome Aminta. And I thank you too. Your time here has done me good."

She then let me go and gave me a serious look. "But we must go now if you are to meet with Frodo."

"Oh of course," I nodded. I then took hold of the veil with my fingertips and draped it over my head, and my face. Arwen nodded to let me know that I was covered, and she motioned for me to follow her. I turned around, took up the skirt in my hands, and followed Arwen out of her room and into the halls.

We walked neither fast nor slow. Though the heels of the slippers we wore made very little noise against the marble floor, I still felt my stomach get twisted and turned by the butterflies that now inhabited it. So many thoughts ran through my mind, were I to list them here, it would take countless days. Planning a daring event like this is one thing, but actually acting it out – once the time arrives – often seems like something completely different. Were it to fall through, my reputation as I knew it would flee with it. But if it worked as planned…

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted as I found myself running into Arwen from behind. I was about to apologize when she softly announced, "We're here," and I looked upon the meeting place for the first time.

Whether Arwen had this courtyard prepared for me or not, I did not know. What I did know was that my breath had been taken away upon seeing it. It was small, but not too small. Planted against the walls near the stairs and the outer border were rows of deep green bushes growing white flowers that seemed to shine in the darkness. There was a fine, marble fountain in the center, the waters of which looked to glitter and sparkle like the light of the stars it reflected. And around the fountain were two stone benches and a circle of stepping stones, all of which seemed almost to have a faint, rainbow-like coloring to them.

I did not know what to say. All I could do when I turned toward Arwen one more time was to give a small smile, hoping that that enough would show the immense gratitude I was feeling. She seemed to know what I was trying to say, for she gave a small nod and smile in return.

"Your gentleman awaits," she said.

A slight chuckle escaped my lips, but before anything more could, Arwen turned and walked away, leaving me to watch as she did so, the long fabric of her nightgown trailing on the floor behind her. Now there was nothing stopping my meeting with Frodo – no more obstacles to overcome, except, perhaps, me.

Realizing that I was now truly alone, and going against the fast-paced beating of my heart, I turned back to the stairs, took up my skirts, and quickly traveled down them. I then walked over to one of the benches, took a seat, and began doing the one last thing I could: wait.

Of how long I waited, I was not well aware. At times it felt as if it were only a few seconds, at others, it felt like an eternity. The only things I could do to help pass the time was either to attempt, for perhaps the tenth time that night, to calm my heart as it beat relentlessly against my chest, or to watch the moon as it slowly drifted across the black sky, the soft sound of the fountain waters filling my ears. Before long, as so often happens when I sit still for long periods of time, my mind began to wander. Was Arwen at this moment meeting with Strider? If so, what were they doing? And what did fate have in store for me? Would Frodo actually come? And if he did, would he recognize me?

My attempts to answer these questions proved to be in vain, though, not only because I could not think of any plausible answers, but because my ears caught the sound of footsteps in the hallway above the courtyard. My head immediately turned toward the sound, and I felt my heart miss a beat at the sight of Frodo in the hallway, Sam behind him. Both were dressed in proper, daytime clothing, and once my eyes met with theirs, both sets of eyebrows were raised. Feeling the heat of intimidation, I swiftly looked away. But I could not force my eyes to do so for long, for I looked, if only slightly, at them again. I saw that Sam, as I had admittedly expected, was talking to Frodo, his eyes wide with concern. Though I could not hear the conversation, I had no doubt that it was about me, and whether or not it would be safe for Frodo. And though I admired  
Sam his concern for his friend, I was also somewhat frustrated that he was, in a sense, stalling our meeting.

After a few minutes, however, Frodo put his hand on Sam's shoulder, looked him sternly in the eye, and, I assumed, insisted that he would be fine. Long minutes passed before Sam finally nodded, turned around, and walked back down the hall, Frodo and I watching until he was out of sight. But when I looked back at Frodo, I saw that he was already traveling down the stairs. And soon, he was sitting next to me on the stone bench, causing my heart to miss yet another beat.

Long minutes passed, minutes that, for me, were spent in anxiety and nervousness, until Frodo spoke up.

"So, you're the one who sent the letter, are you not?" he asked.

I then looked at him directly in the face for the first time, and found myself looking into those now sparkling blue eyes of his, before I remembered that he had asked me a question.

"Yes," I replied in my feminine voice.

"Why?" he then asked.

"Why what?"

"Why did you ask that I meet you alone, in secret?" he asked, suspicion sneaking into his tone of voice.

Though I had rehearsed answers to any possible question Frodo might have asked, all of them immediately escaped my memory once he asked me that question. Whether it was because of fear for being discovered, or, rather, something else, I did not know. But I quickly thought up a response.

"I have my reasons," I said softly and slowly.

"Are you a witch then?" Frodo then asked.

I was not prepared for that question. Did he know already? Was he waiting for me to reveal myself? _No_, I thought to myself, _do not get ahead of yourself Aminta. Simply go along with him and what he asks, and there should be little chance of him unmasking you._

I then bit my lip behind the veil, and replied with the first response that appeared in my mind. "Call me what you will. I am still who I am."

To my surprise, he raised his eyebrows and…blushed. Bright red, in fact. "Forgive me. I meant not to be so judgmental so quickly."

Whether by the fact that he did, or my own feelings, I felt myself begin to blush as well, though I desperately hoped it would not show through the veil. "I understand. Were I in your place, I would probably have been the same."

A few more minutes passed before Frodo spoke up again. "I must ask, though. Who exactly are you?"

"I…I'm afraid I cannot tell you," I replied, slightly nervous.

"Then how do I know I can trust you?" Frodo asked.

Another hard question. Was he going to do this the whole time? It was almost as if he enjoyed confusing me. But suddenly, as if I had reached into a deep, dark well and pulled out a great, unexpected treasure, I remembered what I had written in my letter to Frodo.

"I know what you hold, yet I am not harming you," I replied, "In fact, I could probably take it from you this very moment if I wished."

"Would you, willingly?" Frodo asked, his eyes becoming wide and his hand reaching for his pocket. But I kept pressing him.

"I said no such thing," I replied.

"You did not say otherwise," Frodo insisted. We were now clashing with each other's wits, but I was not going to let him win.

"Do my current actions mean anything to you?" I asked, challenging him, almost playfully, in my mind to come up with a better response.

"Of course," Frodo replied, "But not all is as it seems."

"Then one would have to conclude that I might be stronger, and craftier, than I appear," I said.

"I could run from you."

"I would catch you."

"I could pull my blade on you."

"I would stand my ground."

Our eyes were now locked on each other. I could see that Frodo was just as determined as me. But before long, Frodo ended up surprising me yet again. He first smiled, and then, against my expectations, began chuckling. I did not know whether to regard it as an insult or simply a good-natured laugh.

"You're that much set on proving yourself worthy to me, are you?" he then asked.

Though confused, I still replied. "Perhaps, considering that I was just met with an accusation not to be taken lightly."

"I already apologized," Frodo said, in a tone that lacked condemnation.

"And I have accepted your apology," I said. It was then that I began to let my eyes wander from his increasingly intimidating gaze.

"Is something wrong?" Frodo suddenly asked.

I immediately looked back at him. "Nothing, nothing at all," I insisted.

"Are you sure?" Frodo pressed me.

I then realized that what I said was not exactly the truth. Not only was I not looking at Frodo when I said it, but I now remembered the very reason I wanted to speak to him. Either I was going to tell him now as I had planned, or I would forever remain a coward. I chose to do the former.

I gave only the slightest head shake. "No," I replied, and proceeded to look back at Frodo, "In fact, I must tell you why I really wanted to meet with you in this manner."

Frodo said nothing, only raised his eyebrows and leaned in slightly, the curiosity bold on his face. Were I not wearing the veil, I probably would have felt his breath.

"As I have said in the letter," I began, "I wish to let you know that I mean you, nor anyone else here, harm. I wish for you to see me as a friend. And I wish, finally, to let you know how much I admire you for being willing to carry such a burden, and that I plan to face this troubling future with you. Truly, I would gladly face danger for your sake."

"No!" Frodo suddenly said, nearly causing me to jump in alarm, "I could never let someone get hurt in my place."

"These are dangerous times," I spoke up, "We must do the best we can to help one another."

"Can we make a compromise then?" Frodo asked.

I raised one eyebrow in confusion. "Elaborate."

"We could help one another," Frodo explained, "But we can also promise each other to stay out of harm's way as much as possible, for each other's sakes."

I quickly thought it over, as I usually do when presented with a compromise, but I nodded and smiled in agreement. "I suppose that will do."

Just then, Frodo's hand rested on mine. And with his simple touch, I instantly felt the amount of butterflies in my stomach dramatically increase, and I began feeling that emotion whose name escaped me, this time stronger than ever. I then decided that I must figure out what it was that I was feeling. Thus, I descended into the deeper parts of my mind and began contemplating what it could possibly be. Friendship? Definitely. Yet, it felt too strong to simply be called such. Devotion? Of course. But how often is one so immensely devoted to another one has met only recently? I then found myself beginning to lament what seemed to be a mission being done in vain, when I suddenly thought of one more possibility which I had never before considered, and one that, while capable of being as strong as iron, must be treated with the utmost delicacy. Could it be that what I was feeling for Frodo was…love?

Suddenly, my thoughts were broken and my heart jumped when I saw Frodo's hand – the one that touched mine – reach for the end of the veil that concealed my face, and protected my true identity. Though I felt so strongly for Frodo, I nevertheless felt even stronger for keeping my identity secret, and tried to ignore the sharp pain that often accompanies guilt – guilt that I immediately felt for deceiving Frodo yet again.

The fingertips of both of Frodo's hands caught hold of the ends of the veil, causing my heart to race for perhaps the tenth time that night, when suddenly a hint of light appeared in the corner of my eye.

"Wait," I said to Frodo before he could begin to lift the veil. He immediately stopped. I looked over to the source of the light, and my eyes grew wide as I realized it was the early morning sun, causing me to recall Arwen's warning: "Remember, the veil will only work while the moon is out. If you see the sun on the horizon, you must leave as quickly as you can."

I then turned back to Frodo, forced my teeth away from biting my lip, and said as calmly as I could, "Frodo, forgive me, I have lost track of the hour."

I then rose up from my seat and was ready to leave, when Frodo took hold of my wrist. "No, wait, why the sudden haste?"

"I cannot say, only that I must leave," I replied just as calmly as before, in spite of my intense want for Frodo to let go of me.

I opened my mouth to answer when I saw that the sun had almost risen completely past the mountains. It was now either fight or flight. I chose flight.

"I haven't the time for this!" I exclaimed passionately. I then ripped my wrist out of Frodo's grasp, quickly gathered my skirts in my hands, and ran as fast as my dress would allow down the pathway away from the building and toward the archway entrance, determined to go where Frodo could not follow, much to my, somewhat unexpected, dismay.

Though I ran, I still heard Frodo behind me, following me past the archway.

"Wait!" he shouted, "Come back! Please! Wait!"

But I ignored him. And, though I strongly wanted to, I dared not look back for fear he would see my face through the veil. I only kept running, almost skipping to avoid rocks that might cause me to trip, until I noticed a large rock merged with the side of the mountain, and decided to hide behind it.

Once I was sure that I was hidden, I leaned back and remained stiff against the rock, attempting to remain calm while at the same time hearing for any hint of sound from Frodo should he still be following me. I did hear more footsteps, and bit my lip in preparation for what would happen, when I heard the footsteps stop one by one, until there was no sound of one at all. Long, anxious minutes passed until there came the sound of feet turning on the ground and then walking. I waited for a short while before slowly turning around and looking from behind the walk, and I saw Frodo walk slowly, with his head toward the ground, back to Rivendell. Though I could not see his face, I tried to envision it in my mind. I found one that was downcast, and sad, because this mysterious woman – who declared that she would stand in the face of danger for his sake – had left seemingly without a trace.

I then felt an erratic mixture of emotions. For one, I felt slightly flattered that Frodo could possibly be thinking of me in such a way. But for another, I felt frustrated that it was not the true me, and guilty that I still did not have the courage to tell Frodo who I really was. Even though my mission had gone according to plan, that did not prevent me from feeling unclean at the results. I stood behind the rock, closed my eyes, and breathed a long sigh, the sound of the birds singing their morning song filling my ears. I did not know how, where, or when my true self would be revealed, but all I could think about was that the others, and especially Frodo, would forgive me for acting the way I did.

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	8. The Council of Elrond

Here's Chapter 8! Thanks for reading and reviewing.

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**Lord of the Rings: Through a Princess's Eyes (Part 1)**

Chapter 8 – The Council of Elrond

Even after Frodo left my sight, I stayed behind the rock for long while before I finally decided to return to the realm. I once again took up my skirts and walked back up the path, through the archway, and then up the stairs that led to one of the hallways. I was searching for Arwen's chamber, for I had left my other clothes there, and Arwen, as part of our plan, had given me permission to retrieve them from there. But all through the time that I searched for the room, my heart beat wildly against my chest for fear that I would be found by anyone other than Arwen, especially Frodo.

Yet, surprisingly, I managed to arrive in Arwen's chamber without coming across anyone. It was early morning, but I had assumed that the people of Rivendell would be awake and about once I got back there. I did not stop to question it, however, deciding, instead, to silently celebrate my good fortune, however short-lived it would prove to be.

I closed the curtains, locked the door, and then proceeded to swiftly but gently take off the veil, the dress, and then the slippers, laying them all on Arwen's bed, upon which my other clothes had also been laid. I took them: the shirt and vest, the leggings, the boots, and the fabric for my chest, and donned them all. I then carefully tied up my hair, took up the blond wig that was also sitting on the bed, and placed it back on my head where it had been before.

When I pulled back the curtains again and looked at my reflection in Arwen's mirror, I gave a slight smile at my now somewhat familiar disguise. But the smile soon turned into a frown. I did, in all honesty, feel relief that I was now in the clothes that safeguarded my identity, and yet, I felt unease and discomfort at it as well. Believing I should try to focus my mind elsewhere, I left Arwen's room and decided to look for the library, which, surprisingly, I did not have to search too long for.

I sat on the same sofa I sat on when I first visited the room, and breathed a long, deep sigh. My eyes then caught the small book which sat at the end of the sofa. Urged by my curiosity, I took it up in my hands and read the title: _The Healing Properties of Herbs_. Though I did not have much of an interest in the benefits of herbalism, I decided to look into it anyway, believing it would serve as a distraction from the troubling thoughts and emotions that filled my head.

While I did learn some things I found interesting from the book – such as the usage of a common dandelion as an effective laxative and diuretic – before long I felt a tingling sensation in my fingers, which I immediately thought to be odd, but tried to ignore it. However, the feeling grew until I ended up dropping the book onto the floor. There was no use denying it now that my own body was turning against me. I was feeling nervous. And yet, I did not yet know the reason why.

Was it because I was finally going to have to face Lord Elrond's council as I had originally set out to do? Maybe. Was it my newfound feelings for Frodo, which I had never felt before and would thus cause such a reaction? Another reasonable possibility. But then, I remembered how I felt when I looked at myself in the mirror after I had gotten back into my other clothes. I kept telling myself ever since I had left home that I was doing this for the best, but now it seemed that keeping up an continual masquerade was taking its toll. Why did I have to hide my identity just for the possibility that I would more likely receive help in this state? While it seemed logical, feelings often conflict with logic. And now it seemed as if my logical side and my emotional side were at war with each other to gain the upper hand.

Why could I not possess the confidence that my female ancestors who ruled Lore seemed to be gifted with? True, I was young, but I was also old enough to be able to represent my kingdom effectively. Suddenly, inexplicably, my thoughts turned to Frodo and our meeting earlier that morning, and I felt my face become hot. Not from blushing, I quickly realized. This was a far different emotion. Before long, I realized what it was. I was angry…and with Frodo.

_How dare he make me feel so odd and unusual with his presence!_ I thought, _And how dare he do so at such a critical time! _Even though I knew it was not really Frodo's fault, that did not stop the feelings of anger and resentment that rose within me. In fact, I felt such a wild mix of pure emotion that I felt tears beginning to form in my eyes.

Regardless, I thought of any possible way I could think of to escape it, when a yawn suddenly escaped my lips. I then remembered the long hours I had spent awake during the previous night, and decided that I would try to get any hint of rest before the council, even if my emotions might follow me.

Deciding not to go back to my own chamber, I hastily adjusted the pillow on the left side of the sofa, lifted my legs onto the right side (hoping my boots wouldn't get it dirty), and rested my head against the pillow. Though it took another few minutes – and a good amount of willpower – I eventually closed my eyes and settled into a calming sleep.

How long I slept, I do not know. But at one point, I heard a male voice saying, "Excuse me, Lord Aidan," and I opened my eyes to see an Elf with long, dark brown hair and friendly-looking eyes of the same color. He was also dressed in brown robes, and the expression on his face seemed urgent. I immediately remembered my good manners and hastily sat up, rubbing my eyes but not stretching my arms.

"Pardon me," I said, "I didn't know you were here."

"Forgive my intrusion," he said, "but Master Elrond's council is to begin soon. It will not begin though unless all who were invited are present."

I raised my eyebrows, ignoring the sudden quickening of my heartbeat, and stood up from the sofa.

"Thank you," I nodded, "If you would, please lead me to Lord Elrond."

"Of course," he nodded back, "Follow me."

He then turned around and headed toward the doorway. I did as he said and followed him out of the library and into the halls. For a short while, deciding to take advantage of the fact that I was behind him, I did stretch my arms. I held back a chuckle at knowing that I was doing this literally behind his back. But before long I beheld a large marble dais with a tall, circular stone raised in the center. People of each race: Elves, Men, and Dwarves sat around it. I was prepared though. My hands were at my side and I stood straight, as I had decided that I must look as serious as possible if I were to get any credit.

The Elf and I approached Lord Elrond, who looked even more regal than before, being dressed in red and golden robes. He looked at me, with his sharp, brown eyes, and then nodded at the Elf.

"Thank you Lindir," he said, "You may be seated."

"Yes sir," Lindir nodded. He then took a seat next to Lord Elrond, leaving me alone to face those I knew to be some of the most important and esteemed people of Middle-Earth; some of whom I recognized, as I had seen them enter Rivendell the day before. Arwen had explained to me who they were: Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of Mirkwood, Gimli son of Glóin, and Boromir of Gondor, the last of the great kingdoms of the West. All of them looked at me but I refused to be intimidated. I did ease though when I saw Strider nearby.

"You may take your seat Aidan," Lord Elrond then said to me.

I did not say a word, only nodded and then proceeded toward the only empty seat, which, to my utter discomfort, was right next to Frodo, who in turn sat next to Gandalf. Though I did manage to keep a serious face, I could not ignore the fact that I was going to be sitting next to both the one person I felt uneasy toward and the only person who knew my secret identity. Even so, I gave both a quick nod.

As I did sat down though, I reminded myself of how I'd learned to behave in such an environment: to sit still and straight with both hands in the lap (or, in this case, on each side of my chair since I was pretending to be a boy). I then listened as Lord Elrond spoke up in a clear and powerful voice, signifying that the council had begun.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old, you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate – this one doom."

He then turned to Frodo and said, "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

Frodo stood up, walked slowly to the stone with the Ring in his hand, and then placed it on the stone.

"So it is true," I then heard Boromir say. I saw how the eyes of everyone gathered there, especially those of Boromir, were locked on the Ring even after Frodo sat back down. Boromir then stood up, causing everyone to look at him.

"In a dream," he said in an ominously soft voice, "I saw the eastern sky grow dark. But in the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying, 'Your doom is near at hand.'" It was then that I noticed how he was slowly walking toward the stone. "Isildur's bane is found." He then reached out his hand, toward the Ring. "Isildur's bane."

Just when I was beginning to fear that something dreadful was about to happen, Lord Elrond shot up, shouting, "Boromir!"

Suddenly, though, I saw Gandalf stand up, and speak in a tongue that sounded similar to Elvish, but unlike any tongue I'd ever been taught let alone heard aloud.

_"Ash nazg durbatulûk,_

_ash nazg gimbatul,_

_ash nazg thrakatulûk,_

_agh burzum-ishi krimpatul!"_

Though I had not been taught this language, I immediately knew it to be the fabled Black Speech of Mordor, for as Gandalf spoke the ground began to shake and the sky began to grow dark, causing me to shut my eyes with fear. Only did Gandalf stop speaking did the ground cease to shake and the sky become light again. When I opened my eyes, I saw that Boromir was back in his seat, clearly as surprised as I was. As all of us evidently were.

"Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in _Imladris_," said Lord Elrond.

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond," said Gandalf, "for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West! The Ring is altogether evil!"

"It is a gift," Boromir suddenly said, "A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring?"

Despite what we had all just experienced, he stood up again.

"Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe."

Though I admired his spirit of determination, I was unnerved by his words, for, to my knowledge, he did not experience the power of the Ring as I had.

"Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy," he said, "Let us use it against him!"

"You cannot wield it!" Strider suddenly spoke up, voicing my thoughts, "None of us can." Boromir turned around to face him, but Strider continued. "The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

"And what would a ranger know of this matter?" Boromir asked. This unnerved me even more, for I had come to admire Strider greatly.

Legolas suddenly stood up and exclaimed, "This is no mere ranger!" And then, he spoke words that I did not expect at all to hear. "He is Aragorn son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

My eyebrows instantly raised, and I looked back at Strider – Aragorn son of Arathorn, whose name I knew. When my father was a youth, my grandfather, who was then King of Lore, hosted a man named Arathorn and his father Arador, Chieftain of the Dúnedain. Both were direct descendants of Anárion, the brother of Isildur. Though Gondor had long been ruled by a steward, the line of Isildur had not vanished, and now, to my complete amazement, I was among those beholding living proof of that fact.

"Aragorn?" Boromir asked, "This is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," Legolas added.

_"Sit down, Legolas," _Aragorn insisted in Elvish, clearly not wishing to begin a conflict. Legolas reluctantly did so.

"Gondor has no king," Boromir declared as he walked back to his seat, "Gondor _needs_ no king."

"Aragorn is right," Gandalf said once Boromir sat back down, "We cannot use it!"

"You have only one choice," Lord Elrond declared, "The Ring must be destroyed."

A few silent moments passed before a new voice, that of Gimli, spoke. "Then what are we waiting for?"

My heartbeat rapidly increased as I watched Gimli take his axe, stand up from his chair, and bring the axe down forcefully onto the Ring. I was slightly taken aback at how the axe instantly broke once it had touched the Ring, causing Gimli to fall back onto the floor, a great shock on his face. When I turned to Frodo to see his reaction, my eyebrows raised with concern as I saw him looking somewhat faint, his hand against his head. I then looked back at the Ring, and saw that it had not a single mark on it, as if nothing had happened.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed Gimli son of Glóin by any craft that we here possess," Lord Elrond said, "The Ring was made in the fires of Mt. Doom; only there can it be unmade … It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came! … One of you must do this."

Silence followed, leaving me to wonder how such a task could be done and who would be capable enough to see it through, when Boromir spoke once more, the tone of his voice now one of doubt.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland. Riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly!"

Despite my respectable outward appearance, I was becoming rather frustrated with this man. But Legolas shot up first, saying, "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!"

"And I suppose _you _think you're the one to do it?!" Gimli asked angrily.

"And if we fail, what then?" Boromir, now standing again, asked, "What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"

Gimli shot up, his eyes filled with fury. "I will be _dead _before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!"

At that point, chaos swiftly followed. The Elves sitting with Legolas shot out of their seats and began to argue, followed by the Dwarves, then the men. The whole of the council, except for Lord Elrond and Frodo, was instantly in an uproar over what to do. Before long, to my dismay, Gandalf stood up and joined the needless dispute, saying, "Do you not understand that while we bicker amongst ourselves, Sauron's power grows?! None can escape it! You'll all be destroyed!"

I then sighed and put my head in my hands. Gandalf did voice my thoughts – we could not afford this gratuitous quarreling, not with the fate of Middle-Earth standing on the edge of a great cliff – but it did not do much good in joining the mass argument. I once again looked at Frodo to see what he thought, and saw that he was staring, rather intently, at the Ring. I wondered what he was thinking, when, suddenly, Frodo stood up and tried to shout above everyone else.

"I will take it!" he shouted, "I will take it!"

Still, they did not hear him. In that moment I no longer cared about proper conduct. Deciding that enough was enough, I stood up, put my fingers in my mouth, and whistled loudly. _That _got everyone's attention. They all looked at me, but I gestured toward Frodo.

"My friend would like to speak," I said, in a tone of voice that reminded me very much of my mother's.

"Thank you," Frodo nodded. All eyes then turned to him. And he spoke the words that, to this day, still causes within me a sense of amazement.

"I will take the Ring to Mordor," Frodo declared, "Though, I do not know the way."

Although I had thought that a possible solution to our dilemma, I still did not know what to say. Frodo was essentially allowing himself to bear the burden of burdens. He was offering himself to be a living vessel for the Ring from here to the fiery land of Mordor. I cannot describe in enough detail what I was feeling at the time, but I can say this: My admiration for Frodo increased all the more, as well as my concern for his safety.

And I was not the only one. Gandalf was the first to show his support. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear."

Aragorn then followed suit. "If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will."

He then walked over to Frodo and knelt in front of him. "You have my sword," he assured him.

"And you have my bow," Legolas added

"And my axe," Gimli said. He then stood by Legolas, who now had a slightly discontented look on his face.

I then looked at Boromir. What would he have to say to this? He too walked over to Frodo, showing an austere expression, and said, "You carry the fate of us all little one … If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."

I was satisfied with his answer, but then I decided that I too must offer my own input before this council ended. I stood straight, ignored any fear of speaking in front of such an audience, and released my voice.

"It is true," I began, "that neither the Ring, nor Sauron, is a matter to be dealt with lightly. But none of us can afford to give way to fear. I should know."

I looked at Aragorn, who gave me only a hint of a smile, then looked away and continued. "My kingdom may not be as great as Gondor, but I will be the last to let it fall."

I then looked at Frodo, who I could see was listening with fascination. "Though I might not have expected the Ring to fall into the hands of a hobbit, if it is the will of Eru, then so be it. And should he bear this great burden, he should be able to trust those around him to stick with him through thick and thin – to the bitter end. But he should not trust them to let him face trouble alone – and go off without a word."

It was then that I heard Lord Elrond speak. "You have a deep and fascinating insight, Aidan, especially for one as young as you." He then gave me a soft smile and said, "Frodo will need such insight when you accompany him on his quest."

I raised my eyebrows. Did I really hear what I had just heard? I had been given a compliment by a great Elven Lord, and, to add to that, I had been commissioned by him to join Frodo and help him with his quest to destroy the Ring and, in effect, save Middle-Earth, and my kingdom, in the process. It seemed too good to be true, but I did not have time to dwell on it for long, for we all then heard a shout from behind. I turned and saw that Sam, who – to my knowledge – had been hidden behind a bush throughout the meeting, was running to us to join us.

"Mr. Frodo is not goin' anywhere without me!" he insisted once he stood beside Frodo.

"No indeed," Lord Elrond said, "it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not."

Suddenly, we heard more shouting.

"Wait! We are coming too!" It was Merry. He and Pippin ran out from their hiding places out onto the dais to join us as well, much to the – rather humorous – confusion of Lord Elrond.

"You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" Merry insisted.

"Anyway," Pippin added, "you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest, thing."

"Well that rules you out Pip," Merry retorted, causing me to chuckle slightly.

"Ten companions," Lord Elrond declared once he looked at all of us together, "So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"

For the first time in weeks, I smiled greatly. I was going to help my people in a way my ancestors never did. I was finally going to have an adventure of my own. And I was apparently not the only one to experience such excitement.

"Great!" Pippin said. But then, he asked, "Where are we going?"

Whether because of his words, or my own inner state, my excitement suddenly turned into worry. And it was with that worry that I began to wonder fiercely how we, just ten people, were going to be able to bring down the Dark Lord Sauron, and succeed where the people of Middle-Earth had failed over three thousand years earlier.

**_The story continues in Part Two…_**

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